


Synkroniseret Kamp

by MalpaisQuanta



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bycedes appear but are not endgame, F/M, Minor Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Petra Macneary, NG+2 Byleth, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, They/Them Pronouns for My Unit | Byleth, experimenting with character portrayals, the children must survive no matter the cost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 83,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26165512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalpaisQuanta/pseuds/MalpaisQuanta
Summary: When Felix came to Garreg Mach Monastery, he simply wanted to get stronger. To become the strongest swordmaster in all of Fódlan, strong enough to defeat the ghost of his brother.When Annette came to Garreg Mach Monastery, she simply wanted to track down her father. She wanted to bring him home, back to her mother, and then find her purpose in life.Neither Felix or Annette were ready for the coming war, or the horrific battles they'd be forced to fight. They were not prepared for the lengths their professor would go to in order to ensure their students survived, to avenge the deaths of those that had died for this war before.But the dead are dead. And those who try to avenge the dead will ultimately lose themselves and become no different to the monsters they fought against in the first place.A retelling of Azure Moon, written for the Felannie Minibang.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Marianne von Edmund
Kudos: 21
Collections: Felannie Mini Bang 2020





	1. Begin, Begin Again, Today...

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Annara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annarasumanara/pseuds/annarasumanara) and [Zotza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightZotza/pseuds/TwilightZotza) for helping me make sure some of the more difficult scenes worked right, as well as helping me refine some of the ideas and concepts that would be featured in the fic. As well as them, I would liked to thank [Anvil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextTrickAnvils) for both helping with the scenes and ideas, and for the lovely art she drew alongside this fic, which will be featured in Chapter 12!
> 
> Now let's get started.

Garreg Mach stood imposingly tall as the carriage they were sat in rode up towards the monastery. Felix had heard many stories from his father about the place. Supposedly, it had been where he had met Mother, where he and Lambert had gotten up to many misadventures with Margrave Gautier and Gustave, before he vanished. Now, as the carriage buckled and bumped its way over the road, Felix could see the wistful look on his father’s face, probably lost in those memories.

They belonged in the past. Whatever his father had gotten up to in his school days didn’t matter now. Felix was enrolling at Garreg Mach not to make memories with friends, he was here to train. To get stronger, strong enough to be able to defeat anyone.

The carriage rumbled to a stop, and the driver hopped down and opened the door for him. Felix clambered out of the carriage quickly and walked towards the back to retrieve his case.

“Felix.”

“Yes, Father.” He didn’t deign to look at him, pulled his case off of the back and shoved a sword into the sheathe on his waist. He needed to find somewhere to spar as soon as possible.

“Keep an eye on His Highness for me.” Felix rolled his eyes as he finally turned to face his father. “I won’t be able to watch over him while he is here. I must return home-“  
  


“-and you need me to look after the boar in your place.”

“Felix.”  
“He has his retainer, I’m sure he doesn’t need us looking after him too. He’s a big man now, Father.” He’d changed after Duscur. They all had, but Dimitri more so, and the sooner his father realised and stopped trying to be a father to the boar, the better.

“Even so, we are the Shields of the King. It is our job to protect the King and their family.” He was repeating this as though Felix didn’t already know this. “Glenn knew this too.”

“And now he’s dead. At least he died like a knight.” Felix snapped. He turned away from his father and set off walking for the monastery, ignoring his shouts for him to stop. He didn’t need another lecture about his role, that was his father’s job. He had his own reasons for coming here.

…

The sight of the Monastery in front of her awed Annette. This was it, this was the place she had been working towards. She was finally at Garreg Mach Monastery, as a student!

She quickly sidestepped her way through wandering nuns, soldiers, students, eventually breaking through to a clear path towards the dorm rooms. Her room was somewhere around here, she knew that much, but which one was it…?

“Is that you, Annie?”  
“Mercie?” Annette looked at where the voice was coming from and – Yep! “Mercie!”

Mercedes walked down a couple of steps as Annette changed direction to half walk, half run over to her, pulling her bag along with her all the way into a warm hug from her friend. “It’s good to see you here, Annie.”

“It’s good to see you too. Do you know–“  
“—which house I’m in?” Mercedes smiled as she guessed the question. “The Blue Lion House. What about–“  
“—me? I’m with the Blue Lions too!” She and Mercie were in the same house! “That means we’ll be attending classes together!”

“That’s wonderful!” Mercedes let go of her, and began to walk back up the steps. “I found your room before I saw you. Let’s go get you settled in.”

“Thank you, Mercie!” Annette started to follow her friend up the steps, having to walk quickly to keep up with her tall-ish friend’s strides.

Her room was not too far from where she and Mercedes had ran into each other. Sparsely decorated, a simple table and bed and some bookshelves. It would be easier to keep clean than she was expecting. From where she had been coming from, it didn’t look like Mercedes had the room next to her, and a quick question told her she was right. Who was her neighbour then? Mercedes didn’t know, but she did have an idea.

“We could bake sweets for them?” Mercedes smiled. Baking was something she enjoyed, so it didn’t surprise Annette that that was a go to idea. “The kitchen is free now, and the cooks don’t mind if we bake something in it.”  
  
“Really?” Ooh, baking sweets would be fun! “Great idea Mercie!”

…

The boar hadn’t arrived yet. He’d have seen Dedue if he had, and Dedue was hard to miss.

Finding his room hadn’t taken him any real time or effort. He’d found the training hall while looking for it, so he knew where he’d be spending his time after all of them arrived. He’d go now, but he swore he’d seen Ingrid while looking for his room, so he’d changed plans. Find Ingrid, let her know he arrived so they wouldn’t all go looking for him while he was training, then go train. Easy enough.

Finding her was not so easy. She wasn’t in the big entrance hall. She wasn’t in the market place. She wasn’t on the bridge, though he did see that they had pegasi here. Actual pegasi. And they offered pegasus riding classes here as part of the curriculum. He’d stopped by the stables and put down a training session with them in her name before carrying on. Should get him a few hours of training in peace before she could start nagging him to eat again.

She wouldn’t be in the cathedral. The dining hall?

The dining hall. That took longer than he was expecting. He didn’t say anything in greeting, just sat down next to her and grunted when she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“Felix?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I haven’t seen the boar or Sylvain.”

“His Highness hasn’t arrived yet. And when I last saw Sylvain, he said he was looking for you.”

“Did he.” An excuse, probably. He’d find his way to them eventually. “What are they serving?”  
“Right now? Nothing. A couple of students have borrowed the kitchen for something.” She gestured behind him and he turned his head to see two girls, one tall and blonde, the other short and ginger, flitting around the counter.

…and a ginger headed man, striding towards them with purpose. Well at least Sylvain was alright. “There’s Sylvain.” And he started speaking to them. Arm on the counter, probably where some flour was, trying to flirt his way into something. “He’s too busy to speak to us.”

  
“Ugh.” He could hear Ingrid standing up behind him, irritation echoing off every step she took, and he stood up too. He could probably get Sylvain away without causing a scene- “Sylvain!”

Or not. Slipping out wasn’t an option, Sylvain had just noticed him and waved at him. He walked over to where Sylvain was standing, keeping the girls in his peripheral view. Might as well get a bit of training in, keeping track of where everyone was in a fight was vital to winning.

“Oh hey, Ingrid. Hey Felix. When did you arrive?”  
“Don’t change the subject, Sylvain. You’ve been here barely a day, and you’re already making eyes at people?”  
“You say that like what I’m doing is bad.”  
“Because I’ll be the one who has to clean up your messes! Again!”

The smaller girl had picked up a sack of flour and was struggling with it.

“Ingrid.”  
“Not now Felix. Could you wait at least a day, Sylvain? His Highness-“

And there was a tipped over broom in her way, one she couldn’t see because of how big the sack was. The blonde girl tried to ignore the argument, whisking something together in a bowl with such force it was as though it had offended her in some way.

  
“Ingrid.”  
“-go look for him instead of chasing every skirt you see!” Ingrid sighed in frustration and turned to Felix, just as the girl stumbled and dropped the flour sack with a yelp. “What, Felix?”  
“Move.” He shoved Ingrid into Sylvain, and both fell with a yell. He lunged over the counter and grabbed the girl, barely pulling himself and her back over and behind it as the cloud of flour hit the fire of the open stove.

The ground shook as though the Goddess herself was furious with them, and the loudest bang he had ever heard echoed around the hall as something hot flew over his head. He heard someone shriek, might have been the girl he grabbed. He stayed still until the heat passed, and then he dared to stand back up.

The stove had been blackened by the explosion. The tall girl had thrown up a magic shield to absorb the fire hurled at her and looked over at him frantically.

He nodded.

“Annie!”

“I’m okay!” The girl he’d grabbed quickly stood up and caught herself on the counter. She ran over to her friend, dusting herself off as she went. “I’m so sorry, Mercie! I didn’t see it, I was-“

He left the girl, Annie, to talk to her friend. Ingrid pushed herself back to her feet. Sylvain was still lying on the floor. “Get up, Sylvain."

“What happened?”  
“That Annie girl tripped.” Was that even her name? He gestured behind him to the girls. “ I tried to warn you. But I’m going. If you two want to argue, do it somewhere else.” He didn’t give either of them chance to speak before he set off out of the hall at a quick pace.

He wouldn’t return to the dining hall until the sun had begun to set.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going forward I would like to declare that I have never played the Blue Lions route before. There will likely be inconsistencies with the actual route since I worked off of guides as opposed to first hand knowledge of the story. That being said, I am mostly familiar with the story of the route and have made some alterations to better fit the tale I want to tell.


	2. Collision Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating the tags as I go so please keep double checking in case I add something you don't like. Trigger warnings will be mentioned in the chapter summaries.

The batch of cookies she had left out as thanks went untouched. She hoped it wasn’t because of her cooking.

Annette didn’t know who’d helped her. She found out later that the two students who had started bickering in front of her were Blue Lions too, alongside His Highness, Prince Dimitri.

If His Highness was here, her father had to be somewhere. The trail had led her here, and everything added up. She just needed to find him and bring him home.

She quickly learned who else was in her class, alongside herself and Mercedes. There was the Prince’s retainer, a tall man from Duscur named Dedue, a young boy named Ashe and someone she believed to be the son of Duke Fraldarius, named Felix. They were expected to learn to work together, as a way of strengthening the next generation’s bonds under the watchful eye of the Church.

Two days passed before her world was flipped upside down again. A training exercise involving the three houses was interrupted by a bandit attack, and while none of them had been hurt, the death of Professor Graham had rattled them all. No heroic death fighting off millions of bandits, nor sacrificing himself to save them like in the legends and storybooks. Just shot with an arrow by the first bandit to attack, that was all. Dead before most of them knew what was happening.

Mercedes had prayed until sundown when they got back, asking the Goddess to guide him to rest in peace.

Then the legendary Blade Breaker himself returned to Garreg Mach, accompanied by his child, who was quickly snatched up as Professor Graham’s successor by Lady Rhea and Seteth, and took over his post as the leader of the Blue Lions house. The boys had been in awe of having the Ashen Demon in charge of their house. Annette?

She’d mistaken them for a classmate, an incredibly embarrassing mistake that they were… willing to forgive?

They didn’t even know the basics of magic. Professor Graham hadn’t either, having preferred to ride a wyvern into combat, so she had already made the necessary arrangements with Professor Hanneman to improve upon her magical knowledge with him instead, but Mercedes had taken it upon herself to teach the new Professor what she knew.

The days continued without incident after that.

…

The new Professor’s skill with a sword was, in Felix’s opinion, far better than most people he’d ever duelled. Not that he would tell anyone that.

When the Boar returned from chasing after the Edelgard girl from the Black Eagles during the bandit raid, he would not shut up talking about the Ashen Demon, how good they were in combat, meeting the Blade Breaker himself -that part had gotten him to tune into the discussion- and that he wondered how Professor Graham would fair against him.

He’d been saddened to find out the Professor had died. Felix held his tongue on the matter, and the conversation soon changed.

Then they found out that Byleth, the Ashen Demon themselves, would be taking over Professor Graham’s post. Felix challenged them to a duel to see for himself if they were good enough for the job.

Byleth easily dismantled his offense and bested him. Repeatedly. Until they got bored and asked the Boar to take over.

Felix immediately resolved to double his training until he could match his new Professor, much to Ingrid’s dismay.

The days passed in a blur after that. Wake up, training, breakfast, class, training, lunch, training, class, dinner, training, sleep. Every couple of days, he’d venture down to the marketplace to get his swords repaired and to see if any new swords caught his eye.

Couple of steel, one silver… they would do.

They were dispatched to the Red Canyon to wipe out the surviving bandits who killed Professor Graham. Byleth, their new Professor, had brought along one of the Golden Deer to assist with the healing, given Byleth only had rudimentary healing magic from what they’d learned from Mercedes, and she could only do so much on her own.

They weren’t a challenge. He could have taken them on by himself and still won. Probably why Byleth stuck him with Mercedes, Sylvain and Annie – whose name he learned was Annette, possibly the same one who was Gustave’s kid given the hair – as backup. Sylvain was good with a spear, Mercedes was their healer and could use magic, but disliked all the killing they were doing. Annette was good with magic and kept pace with himself and Sylvain, occasionally dropping back to check on Mercedes.

A pincer movement between Byleth’s group and his group saw the leader left alone, and the Boar ran him through without a shred of remorse, not unlike how he used to put down rebels, before leaving to check up on the Golden Deer girl, who looked a bit shaken by the battle.

Not his problem. What was his problem was Byleth criticising him for running off repeatedly. Apparently, he was supposed to be working as part of a unit. Following Annette’s orders…? He definitely didn’t remember being told she was in charge, but the glares Annette, the Professor and Ingrid were giving him were convincing enough.

His punishment was to assist Annette in her chores, as a way of learning to take orders from someone else. It would cut into his training time, but according to Ingrid, he deserved it for not following orders.

He definitely didn’t remember being told Annette was in charge.

…

Which brought him to the current situation.

“You’re evil, Felix!”

Annette was bright red, and glaring at him for some reason, all he did was knock on the door, announce he was coming in and compliment her singing and dancing. Wasn’t that usually a good thing?

So he answered in the best way he could, by stating the obvious. “And you’re shouting.”

“You can’t just spy on people while they’re singing-“ which he wasn’t, he was here to help with the chores, as was his punishment, “-without even saying anything! It’s not right!”

Pointing out the obvious just made her more upset. His observations made her run out of the greenhouse entirely. He had no idea what had just happened, only that Annette had completely abandoned her chores.

Well. He was supposed to help with the chores, so first he should take care of the plants, then seek out Annette later and apologise for… whatever he’d done wrong.

…

“He was mocking me, Mercie!”

Mercedes offered a sympathetic pat on the back of her friend, who had buried herself face first as deep into a pillow as she could go. “How was he?”

“He was poking fun at my dancing! Saying it was like fencing, watching me without saying anything… what is wrong with him? He doesn’t listen to me, he makes fun of me…” Annette continued grumbling into the pillow as Mercedes turned to brew some tea. Almond, one of Annette’s favourites.

“Maybe you should tell the Professor, Annie. If Felix is being mean to you when he’s supposed to be helping you, maybe they can talk to him?”  
  
“Noo…” Annette finally raised her head up from the pillow. “They might move him into their group. We’re supposed to be learning how to work together so that he’ll stop running off in battle, but, ugh…” Mercedes thought she heard her call him an idiot again. “I will learn to work with someone who doesn’t get on with me, even if he’s got that over me…”

“I’m sure he won’t hold it over you, Annie.” Mercedes poured out the tea into a pair of cups, and pushed one towards Annette. “The tea’s ready.”

Grumbling, Annette pushed herself upright and picked up the cup.

…

How was he supposed to learn to work with her if she wouldn’t even speak to him?

He’d shown up when he was supposed to. She wasn’t there, but the chores had been done already. Same with the next day’s chores. He wouldn’t complain, chores being done early meant more time to train, but she wasn’t talking to him in class, or at lunch… Wasn’t the whole point of this stupid thing that he was supposed to be learning to follow her orders? If she wasn’t even going to show up, then it was a waste of his time.

Commanders weren’t supposed to avoid their soldiers. Regardless of whatever problems they may have with their soldiers, they were supposed to stay in command and act like a leader. Not get songs stuck in people’s heads and then avoid said people.

Felix tried to tune out the song in his head, instead focussing his frustration into practicing the new sword form the Professor had shown him.

It drew from the Astra style that swordmasters favoured, utilizing the speed of the attack, alongside magic to increase the velocity of the swings, allowing him to strike more enemies than if he used the traditional Astra style, instead honing in on his targets through magical means.

Felix had questioned why Byleth had needed to be coached by Mercedes at all, given how they’d literally come up with a magic based combat style on their own.

"I can’t heal well. I can only fight,” was the answer he was given.

So here he was, trying to recall the method the Professor had taught him to harness the electricity around him to make him move faster. The books had explained how to do that part, it was making it move his hands and feet that was hard.

_Stacks of steaks and cakes, and crumbs and yums!_

After the third time the song made him lose focus and hit the wall instead of the target, he decided to take a break.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing chores with Annette?”  
  
Felix didn’t bother turning around as he dragged the training dummy back to where it was. “Already done them.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.” Felix let go of the training dummy and turned to Ingrid, who stood in the doorway with her arms folded. “Is Sylvain or the Boar with you?”

“No and no. His Highness is on cleaning duty with Marianne,” Felix frowned at the thought of the Boar cleaning plates, “and Sylvain went somewhere with Lorenz.”

“Spar with me, then.” Felix grabbed up a lance and offered it out to Ingrid, who took it with a resigned look on her face.

“Very well.” The two swiftly moved to opposite sides of the training arena, and easily settled into their combat stances.

It was the one constant in their lives. He, Ingrid, Glenn and Dimitri, back before he became the Boar, would frequently spar with each other whenever they got the chance. Glenn’s experience and power was something they were never able to match, but his lessons with the lance and sword was something they all picked up easily whenever they could. Felix wanted to be better than his brother. Ingrid wanted to make her fiancée proud, become a noble knight just like he was.

Now he was gone. His lessons and training lived on through them, and the clattering of Ingrid’s lance and Felix’s sword echoed in the small training hall, a reminder of better times.

“There’s a problem with Annette,” Felix began as he parried a thrust from Ingrid. “She’s been avoiding me lately.” Why he was telling her, he wasn’t sure. But Ingrid was here, and he needed help, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. I walked into the greenhouse to do my chores,” Felix side stepped a feint and got whacked on the leg with the lance as payment for his mistake, “and she started yelling at me.”

“What are you leaving out?”

  
…Ingrid wouldn’t tell anyone. “She was singing and dancing when I came in. I said I was coming in, but she didn’t hear me.”  
“Then she’s probably embarrassed about you seeing her doing that.” Ingrid shook her hand to ease the stinging as Felix countered another thrust a little too harshly. “Did you say anything about the singing and dancing?”

“I told her she had nice footwork. Like a fencer’s.”

Ingrid sighed.

“What.” Felix parried another lance thrust. “It was.”

“It sounds like something Sylvain would use as a pickup line.” Felix narrowed his eyes at her. “But talk to the Professor about it. They might be able to talk to Annette.”

“Then I will.” Felix correctly countered Ingrid’s feint and forced her back, and the spar continued.

…

Annette was terrified.

After class had concluded for that day, Professor Byleth had asked to see her in their office. She had no idea why, she’d been on top of her classwork, she hadn’t been causing trouble for anyone. She’d even been helping Mercie learn the new fighting style the Professor had been teaching her! She’d gotten really good at using her axe as well, so what could she have done wrong?

Mercedes was just as perplexed as she was about why the Professor had asked for her. All of the other Blue Lions were just as surprised.

So there she was, waiting outside the door to Byleth’s office. She needed to knock, she knew, but she was scared. What if they called her in to transfer her to the Black Eagles? Leonie and Petra had already transferred over from the Black Eagles and Golden Deer. What if she was being sent over to one of their houses to replace them? What if she was being kicked out of the monastery? What if-

The door opened, and Annette jumped.

“There you are. Come in, Annette.”

Each step felt like she was dragging herself to her doom, but she forced herself into the room. It was surprisingly sparse, not many decorations. A vase with flowers on the desk, otherwise it was lacking a lot of personality. Lavender flowers. Agh, why was she looking? Byleth was waiting for her!

“Sit down.” Annette did so. She waited as Byleth busied themself with their tea set, steeping the leaves to bring out the flavour of the tea with experience that should be far beyond the grasp of someone who could only make leaf water two days ago. They placed a cup in front of Annette, alongside a plate of cookies and sat down opposite her, flicking through some papers. “Annette Fantine Dominic, sole daughter of Gustave Dominic…”

“You know my father?”  
“I did. Before Duscur.” Byleth placed the papers down and turned to face her. “I won’t keep you any longer than I need to. Felix has come to me because you’ve not been showing up to your chores.”

Felix had told them. Oh no. What if he’d told them about her singing and dancing? What if he had complained-“

“He seems concerned that there’s a problem between the two of you. Yes, I’m just getting to that.” Annette looked up at her teacher, who seemed to be looking somewhere else. “Leave me to it.”

“Um-“  
“Not you. Sorry.” Byleth shot a glare at something next to them and focussed back on her. “Is it something you want to discuss with me?”

“Well…”

How would she even phrase it? “Professor, Felix overheard me singing and dancing and mocked me because of it?” That sounded so childish, come on Annie.

“Did he?”  
  
“What?” Wait, had she said that out loud? “Did he…?”  
  
“Did he mock you?”  
  
Oh no, she had said that out loud! “No! Wait! Um… I-I think-“

The door opened behind her, granting a brief respite from the embarrassment. Thank the goddess for whoever had interrupted their discussion, maybe she could sneak out and hope the Professor forgot about it?

“Professor.”

The Goddess must be smiling upon her. Saved from further embarrassment and getting her father dropped in front of her. Annette whispered a silent thank you to Her before turning around to look at her father.

“Gilbert. I was checking on Annette here, can you give us a moment?”

“Of course. Forgive my intrusion.”

“Wait!” Forgetting all about her fear, the meeting, Annette stood up so fast that the chair went backwards with a crash. She tried to run towards the door her father had just stepped away from. “Father! Wait-”  
  
Too busy trying to reach her father, too determined to catch him and stop him from leaving, to drag him back home if she had to, that she didn’t notice that the chair she’d knocked over in her haste was now lying in her way. Annette’s foot caught in the back of the chair, and she tripped and fell.

Concrete would have met her face first, had a pair of arms not launched out to grab her, to catch her before she could fall fully. Not Byleth’s. Not her father’s.

“Annette?”

Felix. Again.

She heard Byleth shouting behind her, but when she pushed herself upright, out of Felix’s arms, her father had gone. Great, just great. First he walked in on her singing and dancing, then he got her in trouble with the Professor and now he just stopped her from talking to her father! The whole point of her coming here!

“You!”

“Me?”  
“Why is it always you?” Felix didn’t react, which only irritated her further. “You mocked me, you keep getting in the way-“  
“What?” Getting in the way? Felix didn’t understand how he was getting in the way. “How do I keep getting in the way? You keep tripping over everything.”  
“See! You’re doing it again! Mocking me because I’m clumsy!”  
  


“ **Enough.** ” Byleth’s voice echoed, and both students immediately shut up and looked at them because by the Goddess they sounded furious. “You are students. You are nobles. This petty fighting is beneath the both of you.” There was a certain madness in Byleth’s eyes that they hadn’t seen before, and they wondered if this was the Ashen Demon they’d heard so much about. “I was considering having you two work as separate teams, but not if you are going to behave like that. The two of you will continue to work together in future battles. You are the future of Faerghus. You will learn to work together, and you will **not** act like a pair of children in my class anymore. Are we clear?”

Both students meekly nodded. “Yes, Professor.”

Byleth slammed the door in their faces without any further discussion. Deciding that meant they were dismissed; they went their separate ways. Annette to try and find her father, Felix to go train.

In their office, Byleth rubbed their head with a grumble. Maybe they had been a little harsh on them, but they’d forgotten how childish the children could be at first. It’d be a waste of a Pulse to fix, though.

They pulled up the papers Seteth had provided them on their first day. Looked over Annette’s again before turning to pick up Felix’s.

Felix was a swordmaster with an already impressive grasp on swordplay. While he currently had expressed no interest in learning anything other than how to use swords and to work on his brawling techniques, their instincts told Byleth that it could be worth making him learn magic, if only to round out his combat capabilities. To get him on board with their little project, the offer of a mythical sword could be enough.

Annette… Byleth knew her potential. One of the magical prodigies of the Royal School of Sorcery. Her skill and talent with magic was already impressive on paper, but with a bit of battle experience and training behind her, she could become one of the strongest mages in the entire Kingdom. Byleth knew she would be perfect for this project. But how would they get her to work with Felix?

If they remembered right, Annette was trying to find her father and bring him home. Gilbert had walked out on his family four years ago, after the Tragedy of Duscur. Her father meant everything to her. Offering an opportunity to talk to her father up in return for her training with Felix might just work.

The goddess appeared at their side. She looked at the papers before them and hummed her approval. Byleth was on the right path this time, the Goddess was sure of it.

Reuniting Annette with her father would be the first step in fixing everything that had happened.


	3. Running Before They Were Supposed to Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sothis, sometimes you gotta run before you can walk.
> 
> Also I wrote the White Heron Ball part to the main theme from Howl's Moving Castle. It's a really pretty song!
> 
> Also, the name of Arthur for Ingrid's pegasus comes from [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20921510/chapters/49736126), people should check it out when they get a minute.

The moons passed by agonizingly slow after that confrontation.

Annette would have rather tried to lead a group, but the Professor had simply told her to focus on her training with Felix, and had put Leonie, one of the new recruits from the Golden Deer, in charge in her place. Leonie, who showed the Professor almost no respect, who had barely interacted with anyone in their class, was in charge of them!

She had the makings of a good leader, but that was beside the point. She could lead them! She knew she could! Instead she was stuck working with Felix of all people, learning this… whatever this new battle style the Professor had found. Synkroniseret Kamp? She had no idea how to pronounce it and wouldn’t have believed it to be real if she hadn’t already seen the textbooks Mercedes had.

Apparently it was something Byleth had been practicing with Mercedes. The Professor had explained it a few days later, in a private lesson for herself, Felix, Mercie, Dimitri and surprisingly, the Golden Deer healer, Marianne.

“Two soldiers, one mage, one soldier. Both capable of physical combat, both capable of magic. Alone, they have their weaknesses. Together, they can cover each other, but what happens when one exhausts themselves?”

Annette’s hand had shot up. “The other would have to protect them.”

“Correct. Which puts them both in a difficult position against the enemy. However, mages in Morfis have discovered a way of fighting that means that would not happen.”

Byleth tapped the board, where the word “Synkroniseret Kamp” was scrawled, with a stick figures of two people drawn beneath it.

“Synkroniseret Kamp. In our language it means ‘Synchronised Combat’. The art of two combatants sharing their strength to increase it the benefit of both. Tricky to do, difficult to master. But once done, the synchronised pair can defeat anything, no matter the size of the army they face. There are four forms to it. The first will see one person use the other as a well for magic or stamina. The second will grant both knowledge of where the other is during the synchronicity period. The third allows the both of you to draw upon each other’s strength and magic. The fourth will allow you to become one on the battlefield.” Byleth looked at the students before them, nodding to themself. “You are all here because I believe you have the potential to become Fódlan’s first synchrocombatants.”

“Forgive me, Professor. But I believe you’re wrong.” Annette glanced over at Marianne, who was frowning down at her desk. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Yes you can.” The blunt statement made Annette blink in surprise. “The goddess believes you can, Marianne.”

“You’re just saying that…”  
“If I’m lying, she can strike me down here and now.”

Marianne gasped. As did Mercedes. Annette and Dimitri watched the Professor in concern, fearful that the goddess would smite them right in front of them.

Nothing happened. All four of them let out relieved sighs. Felix rolled his eyes.

“Have the same faith in yourself that you have in the goddess, Marianne.” Byleth looked back at the rest of the class. “This battle style is something I myself don’t have a complete grasp on. Do not fear failure when you are practicing this. At worst, you will just have to rely on standard combat tactics.”

“Professor.” Dimitri had raised his hand. “How do you know we have the potential? Some of us have only just met.”  
  
“Good question. You all know of my experience as a mercenary. When you’re part of a group of soldiers all fighting for the same cause, you learn to notice when certain soldiers have potential. Synkroniseret Kamp requires the determination to come out victorious and a reason for the two soldiers to fight together. In this case, the pairings I have determined are the ones I believe will produce the best results.” Byleth picked up a sheet and began to read from it. “Mercedes and I. Dimitri and Marianne.” Marianne shook her head in silent resignation. “And Felix and Annette.”

“Annette and Mercedes have been friends for longer,” Felix interrupted. How did he know that? “Why aren’t they being paired up?”

“Because they’re both mages, and it requires a mage and a warrior.” The Professor’s face quirked with a slight smirk in answer. “Since this is something outside the monastery’s curriculum, and since I know some of you may try to get out of doing it,“ the look the Professor shot her and Felix made it clear that they’d already pre-empted their complaints about working together, “I have instead found an incentive for each of you. Something to keep you focussed, to give you a reason to do this. So long as you make attempts to master the art, even if you do not succeed, I will give you each a prize. Something that I know is incredibly important to each of you.”

Byleth set down a small slip of paper in front of each student, barely bigger than the size of their palm, and returned to the front of the classroom. “What I am offering may sound impossible. It may sound incredulous. But on my life, I will give you it if you show results of attempting to learn this by the time you graduate from Garreg Mach. You may turn them over once I have left the room.”

The wait was agonizing. The Professor cleaned off the blackboard, stacked the papers they had brought in neatly on their desk, rearranged said desk, rearranged the lavender flowers to face the sunlight before they peered out of the window, as though looking for something, and then finally leaving.

The rustling of papers filled the room only slightly, but the little gasps and mutterings of “No. No way.” Filled the room more so.

Especially Annette’s. She had to read it again to be sure.

_I will give you your father. Gustave will return home._

Her father. She could get her father back. All she had to do was put up with Felix’s mockery of her singing and dancing and learn this new technique with him.

It would be easy.

…

For him to not be able to grasp this so easily… Felix wondered how the boar was fairing. Maybe his partner had already given up, the thing couldn’t keep its guise of the Prince up around her all the time.

Felix himself was having trouble. The key element of Synkroniseret Kamp, according to the textbooks Professor Byleth had provided for them (the very expensive textbooks, from what he’d overheard Flayn telling the Professor during training. Seteth had apparently suffered a case of conniptions upon seeing how much they had spent on them) was them finding a reason to synch up their magical… wavelengths? Something to do with finding common ground and then tapping into the magical energy they draw upon for casting spells to share each other’s strength. They had given them all personal reasons to take part in the training, but nothing for finding common ground. Apparently, that couldn’t be taught, as it was different from person to person.

Felix refused to learn white magic. He wanted to carve his own path, not follow in the footsteps of his father. He turned to learning black magic instead, since he needed to learn magic to get his reward, according to Byleth. Annette was assigned as his tutor, and her lessons with him became a part of their training routine.

So there they were, back on chore duty together, cleaning the stables, picking weeds, taking sky watches (Ingrid had insisted on watching over everyone after Mercedes had almost toppled off of Arthur, her pegasus, during take-off), watering the plants… Nothing seemed to be coming up for them. Nothing except bickering when Annette panicked and tried to rush through a chore, or Felix would get distracted by a rare weapon, or unconsciously sang one of her songs. The Professor themself seemed to be perplexed by it.

It wasn’t for lack of actual combat either. Faerghus seemed to have quickly descended into chaos with the start of the school year. Lord Lonato rebelled, and was put down by Thunderbrand Catherine, despite the Professor and Ashe attempting to reason with him. Sylvain’s brother Miklan stole the Lance of Ruin and led his band of thieves and bandits to lay waste to a few villages before they were sent out to stop him. He knew Sylvain had taken no joy in the killing of his brother. He knew that despite everything, Sylvain had just wanted a brother.

It was the first time he and Annette had worked together without needing to be prompted. Annette had wanted to make something to cheer Sylvain up. Felix had helped, and this time they managed to avoid causing an explosion, if only barely.

The cookies were slightly burnt, but he appreciated them all the same.

The first wake-up call for them to refocus on their training had been during the attempted assassination of Lady Rhea. The Boar had figured out that Lady Rhea was not the target, and a hint from Flayn gave them an idea of where they were actually going to strike.

They hadn’t been prepared for the Death Knight.

Clad in imposing armour, wielding a scythe that crackled with electricity and staring them down as they approached, Byleth had ordered the rest of them to split off, Dimitri and Marianne going left with Petra and Ashe, Felix and Annette going right with Ingrid and Leonie, and had approached them with Mercedes.

The Knight had spoken to them, and for a moment, it looked as though they weren’t going to attack.

Then they swung the scythe, and lightning crashed down where Byleth had been stood. The Knight had turned to Mercedes, watching her as she watched him, not attacking even as the Professor moved in front of her. Something felt off to Felix. The Knight was supposedly merciless. Unbeatable. Mercedes was just a student, like them. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him. So why wasn’t he attacking?

“Mercie!”

Felix looked right just in time to see Annette charging a spell, one no doubt aimed at the Death Knight. A part of him wanted to wait and see what happened, a part of him recognised the danger the Knight posed, knew that having it directed at them would be a bad idea. The two sides bickered, but just as quickly came to a conclusion.

_I need to stop that counterattack._

Felix drew his sword and jammed it into the cracked stone beneath him as Annette launched her wind magic. The spell glanced off the Knight’s armour, the scythe swung, and the bolt of lightning leapt towards them.

Felix’s sword exploded, for lack of a better term, as the lightning redirected into it. The shrapnel bounced off an invisible wall next to him, and Felix looked to Annette, who wore a terrified expression even as the storm against her magical shield subsided.

Point taken. Fighting the Death Knight would mean death for them.

It was only later, after Byleth had driven off the Death Knight and retrieved a strange sword that the Western Church mage had pulled from Seiros’ grave, that Annette had had chance to speak to him.

“Sorry about your sword.”

“It was half broken anyway.” Felix shrugged. “That shield spell was strong.”

“It doesn’t normally work that well.” Annette frowned, stared at the shattered remains of Felix’s sword. “Even Mercie struggles to make a shield that strong.”

The heavy footfalls warned them of the Professor’s march towards them. “There’s a reason for that.” They quickly thumbed through the textbook they were holding. “How are you feeling, Felix?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Actual answer, Fraldarius. This is important.”

Felix grimaced at being addressed in the same manner as his father. “Tired. Like I spent a day sparring.”

The book snapped shut. “Annette tapped into your energy to form that shield spell.”

“I did what?”

“You achieved the most basic form of Synkroniseret Kamp. Using your partner’s energy to enhance your own. Whatever you two were thinking formed the connection. Congratulations.” Byleth nodded and walked back over to Mercedes, hands glowing as they prepared to cast a healing spell on her.

The Professor encouraged them all to continue their training, spurred on by their success. Felix and Annette had not been able to replicate it yet, but Dimitri and Marianne succeeded in performing the basic form while they were rescuing Flayn.

Byleth and Mercedes, however, didn’t reach that form themselves until the attack on Remire, when both had fought the Death Knight together to protect Captain Jeralt and the local villagers.

…

Then the White Heron Ball happened.

None of them had been selected, instead the Professor had picked Dorothea to represent them in the White Heron Cup. She won handily and took to the role of the group’s dancer like a swan to water.

The Professor’s decision to have them dance in their assigned pairings at the ball, however, hadn’t gone down well. Felix and Dimitri had complained about being forced to dance. Marianne had quietly refused.

“Are you all not aiming to master the Synkroniseret Kamp? Learning to dance together will help you to understand each other and will teach you how to move as one better than any sparring session with me ever could.” Maybe their teacher was a hopeless romantic at heart (Felix had snorted at the idea) but they seemed adamant that they all danced together at the ball.

So they practiced. Dimitri and Marianne, contrary to their reluctance to dance, picked it up surprisingly quickly. It took a while though. As well as repeated reminders from Byleth until Dimitri remembered he had to take the lead in the dance. Mercedes and Byleth were slower, due to Mercie’s clumsiness and Byleth’s stilted movements, but they managed to pick it up.

Felix and Annette, however…

“Stop stepping on my foot.”  
“Stop stepping on mine.”  
“Have you ever danced with someone before?” Felix looked away as they twirled together, having finally gotten the box step down, and Annette’s eyes widened in surprise. “You haven’t?”  
"No. I don't dance." Felix looked back at her, trying to mask his embarrassment at his abysmal dancing with annoyance. “And I don’t like people seeing me dance.”

"You got to see me dance. So this is payback for before, you villain."

"For what?"

"For you teasing me!"

This again? "I wasn't teasing you."

"Oh yes you were. I know you, Felix. You were mocking-ow!” she hissed as he accidentally stepped on her again. “My foot, Felix!"

"I haven’t danced in a while." A very long while. Not since he was eleven, in those stupid dancing lessons they’d been forced to take. The Boar was the only one to have taken to the lessons well. Fitting that it had picked up on how to pretend to be human better than the rest of them.

"Ugh, you dummy. Right foot first-whoa!" Annette’s foot caught on Felix’s and she tripped, accidentally pulling him down with her. “Felix!”

They could do with some more practice.

And so they did, the new dance training, mixed with all their old training, meant they were being forced to work together all the time, every day, all day. No time for Felix’s own training, no time for Annette to destress.

Mercedes and Annette were the first to fight. A disagreement born of worry led to an argument between the two, and their friendship fell apart. Both were hurt, both were sad, neither wanted to speak first.

Felix himself fared no better, his frustration boiled into yet another fight with his father. After helping him to clear out a village the Boar’s father liked, another row erupted due to a clash in ideals between the two. He redoubled his training, pushing Annette into trying harder and harder to get it all nailed down. The dancing, the chores. The Synkroniseret Kamp. All of it.

Felix needed to be stronger. Annette refused to be left behind.

In doing so, they achieved the second form of Synkroniseret Kamp.

It was the night of the ball, and Felix was stood out to the side. Annette was talking to Lysithea, another recruit to the Blue Lions.

Once the dancing had started, Dimitri and Marianne had taken to the centre of the ballroom, eager to perform the required dance before leaving the busy room, with Edelgard and Hubert approaching from the other side to have the first dance of the Black Eagles.

Claude promptly pulled in the Professor, to the surprise of everyone, and Byleth’s carefully laid plan for the night went up in smoke. Again.

Once Claude let go, Lorenz swooped in. Followed by Ferdinand. Then Sylvain. It seemed all the students were determined to share a dance with the new Professor tonight. Mercedes, rather than be rude, chose to busy herself with the desserts she had helped bake for the ball.

Felix clocked the frustrated look Annette was wearing, caught her eye. Both had the same idea, both moved to do the same thing.

_We all need to dance._

Felix moved at the same time as Annette, but in different directions. Felix moved towards Mercedes, Annette moved towards Byleth. Mercedes was reluctant to dance with Felix, but agreed to anyway.

Byleth was just glad to not have to listen another threat from Hubert disguised as their dance and swapped with Annette.

The funny thing was, neither had to look at the other. Both could sense where the other was, both moved in sync towards to each other, twirling between couples, bumbling students and left footed nobles.

Felix guided Mercedes around Ashe and Petra, who were trying to practice a complex looking Brigid dance in amidst all the students at the ball, as Byleth and Annette moved around Dimitri and Marianne, who’d forgotten where they were in favour of dancing and, in Marianne’s case, practicing her smile. The sight of it all brought a warm feeling to their chest. Felix and Annette working together, Dimitri and Marianne having fun together, all of the students together to have fun after everything had happened.

It made them happy.

Then, in a showcase of incredible synchronicity, Annette and Felix reached each other with their partners in tow, and with one smooth move, passed them to each other and twirled together around Yuri and a nervous looking Bernadetta to dance away, leaving a surprised Mercedes deposited in Byleth’s arms.

Byleth, for the moment, was in disbelief of the smoothness of the two. Two weeks ago, they’d been bickering far more than normal. Now they were moving like one.

A small smile wormed its way onto their face, as they watched them almost crash into Ashe and Petra and start squabbling again. That had to at least have been the second form of Synkroniseret Kamp!

“Professor.” They looked down at Mercedes. “I hope you don’t mind dancing with me.”

“Of course not. Shall we?”

Byleth could spare a few minutes to dance with Mercedes. Before tomorrow. Before they could see if all of their preparations could alter the hands of fate.


	4. Swings and Roundabouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The combat scene was written to the third phase of FalKKonE's Slave Knight Gael cover. I love that boss fight, it's so cool to watch. The lightning striking the ground as Gael flips around hurling fireballs, shooting his crossbow and trying to squash you with his sword, it is amazing!
> 
> Anyway, on with the chapter.

At first, it was just another ordinary day for Felix.

The Blue Lions class was being sent to a nearby watchtower, where some monsters had appeared and were attacking some students from Garreg Mach. Nothing too difficult, barely a challenge for him, even if he was on his own.

He and Annette felled the first monster together, Annette tearing a hole in its armour for Felix to strike. Dimitri and Marianne handled the second, but the Professor and Mercedes hung back. Neither attempted to attack the monsters, instead leaving the remaining two to the other students.

Felix kept the Professor in his peripheral view as he moved forward, watching as they remained at the back, issuing orders. This was unusual. The Professor would normally be fighting next to Ashe. Them and Mercedes would take down anyone who approached their archers, but Yuri and Constance had been given that role today. Instead they were hiding at the back, with Mercedes.

Always watching Captain Jeralt. Felix didn’t see the point, Leonie wasn’t letting him out of her sight, surely Byleth didn’t need to watch him too?

The answer came after the final beast had been felled. Jeralt had gone to the watchtower, Leonie, Byleth and Mercedes following close behind him. He found Monica, one of the Black Eagle students.

Then, everything went to hell.

Byleth’s sword segmented as they whipped it at Monica. Instead of it staying together, the sword separated, flew off the sword handle altogether and darted past a mage – who had appeared out of nowhere – to throw themselves at Monica, making her drop a dagger she’d pulled from somewhere. Mercedes pushed Jeralt and Leonie away from Monica and threw herself in front of Byleth, a magic shield raised to block the mage’s next spell.

Monica changed.

She didn’t look human anymore, what with those growth like leaf things protruding from her back. Something was said, and the sword fragments sliced themselves a path away from Monica. They swirled around Byleth as they drew a second sword, staring a hole through what had been their student. Mercedes launched a spell, and then chaos erupted.

Byleth’s sword flashed, slashed and smashed against Monica, striking at one place, then three, then two, then three again. The fragments of the Creator Sword danced through the air, smashed against Monica’s own sword, against the leaf limbs, one got chopped off, flew through the air and landed on the ground next to Byleth-

Mercedes threw up shield after shield, calling upon spell after spell to force the enemy mage backwards, block his spells, throwing more magical offense out than she ever had before, than any mage in the school short of Lady Rhea had ever shown as she forced the mage back, forced them away from Byleth and Monica-

Felix stood transfixed, utterly in awe of the showcase Byleth and Mercedes were putting on, forcing their enemies back. Did he know why Byleth had started trying to kill a student? No! But they were putting on a lesson in sword fighting, treating their sword as an extension of themselves, whipping it around to block strikes, blows, literally any offense Monica could muster was shut down and put her back on the defensive. The Creator Sword fragments flew around Byleth, forcing Monica to back up, to focus more on blocking and evading than attacking. A second leaf-limb was shorn off, landed near where Felix was standing.

The mage was fairing slightly better as Mercedes was tiring now, slowly being put back on the defensive as spell after spell after spell impacted on her shields, before a shield was formed before her – something small and green had flown past her, Felix was sure – and suddenly Mercedes was on the offensive again, the shield standing strong at anything the mage could throw at her.

Byleth appeared by Mercedes’ side, passed her a vulnerary and warped back to Monica with kick, launching her back as the Creator Sword fragments flew around them. In less than a heartbeat, Mercedes was perked back up and Monica was reeling, and nothing they could do seemed to be able to bust through their defences, and for a moment, Felix wondered if Byleth really was going to kill a student in front of them.

The mage yelled something. Monica answered, her last leaf limb thing being sliced off as she leapt sideways. The mage warped around Mercedes and landed behind Monica. Felix strained to hear their words as they glared at Byleth.

“Your victory will be undone, Fell Star.”

A beat passed, and something was sticking out of Monica’s arm. The dagger she had tried to stab Jeralt with. Monica screamed, louder than Felix had heard anyone scream, and Byleth stood in front of Jeralt, the madness in their eyes apparent even from where he was standing.

The mage and Monica warped away. The battle over, the students cautiously crept over to the Professor, who was staring at the spot where Monica and the mage had been.

“Professor?” Annette’s voice was tinged with nervousness.

Byleth looked at them with a shake of their head. Held the Sword of the Creator out, watched the fragments combine back into the sword’s whip form. “I’m fine. Someone get Mercedes.”

It took a moment for her to process it, and then Annette cried out. Felix looked over to see Mercedes collapsed on the floor. As she and Felix ran over to them, a yell, deep and gruff – Jeralt’s — rang out.

  
  


“Byleth!”

Felix spared a glance to see the Professor had collapsed in the Captain’s arms. Leonie and Marianne were running over to them, healing magic already glowing in Marianne’s hands.

He turned back and focussed on Mercedes, who Annette had already gotten to and was kneeling next to. No blood anywhere. Her shawl was badly burnt, and the smell of burned hair filled the air as he approached her.

“What’s wrong with you, Mercie? Pushing yourself so far…” Annette was moving Mercedes’ hair out of the way – it had come undone in the fight – and had some basic magic flowing in her hands to check on her as Felix reached her. He focussed on checking her for injuries, leaving the magical side to Annette.

He spared a glance at Byleth, before the sound of running footsteps drew his attention behind him.

“Is she alright-“

“She doesn’t need your help, boar,” Felix snapped as he immediately looked away. “Go help the others with the Professor.” He tuned out the boar’s apologies and Annette’s chastising as he focussed on Mercedes. He wasn’t a healer, but he didn’t spend all that time training to not pick up on recognising physical injuries.

To his silent surprise, she had sprained her fingers and her wrist. Just how strong had that mage’s magic been?

  
…

Very strong, was the answer.

Manuela had a conniption upon the return of the Professor and Mercedes, immediately had them moved into beds while she checked them over. The Professor was unscathed, aside from being fatigued. They’d be back up in a couple of days.

Mercedes, however, faired much worse. The sprains turned out to be fractures, meaning she couldn’t do anything with her hands for at least a month, magic related or not. Severe magical fatigue meant that Manuela had to have Marianne and Lysithea administer magic transfusions almost immediately after she had been moved into the infirmary.

Something went wrong, and they had to reverse the transfusion as something within Mercedes reacted badly to it and almost killed her. Whatever it was got into Marianne and Lysithea and put them into the infirmary as well. Manuela was stumped, and even the Professor had no answers upon waking up two days later.

Annette made frequent visits to Mercedes in the following days, often running into Byleth, Dimitri and surprisingly Claude, who always asked questions whenever they ran into one another. Mercedes’ condition, the training she had been doing with Felix, Lysithea’s condition…

Byleth had visited once, with Jeralt in tow. The captain had taken Dimitri aside to talk to him while the Professor spoke with Manuela about something. Annette hadn’t been able to hear anything, instead focussing on plaiting Mercedes’ hair after having washed it for her.

She still hadn’t woken up a week later, when Byleth flagged Annette down on her way to return a book to the library.

“Annette.” Byleth’s voice, usually level and calm, wavered with an underlying hesitance. “Is your training with Felix going fine?”

“Yes?” They hadn’t had any problems since the ball, though consistently staying synched up was still an ongoing difficulty they faced. “Is something wrong, Professor?”

“Ingrid overheard Felix complaining earlier. He has a song stuck in his head?” Byleth tapped their foot for a moment, a familiar beat coming back to her accompanied by a wave of anxiety. “Something about steaks and cakes.”  
  
Agh! He still remembered her singing after all this time? “I-I don’t know that one. Sorry, Professor.” This was embarrassing… Of course he still remembered and was complaining about her singing!

“Alright. By the way, Mercedes is recovering well. We’ll be able to wake her up after we get whatever’s poisoned her, Marianne and Lysithea out of them, and she should be able to go back to doing everything she used to.” Annette perked up at that slightly but wilted as the Professor left to go chase after Linhardt.

Felix still remembered her singing? That was months ago! If he started telling people, she’d be a complete joke to her classmates! There was no other choice. She had to bribe him into shutting up!

But what could she bribe him with?

…

The Professor completely changed after Mercedes almost died.

Felix hadn’t been there when it happened, having gone with the boar a few days later to inform Lady Rhea and Seteth about what had transpired at the watchtower. He had witnessed the battle between Monica and Byleth, and relayed as such. Seteth had paled when he mentioned Monica’s strange appearance, and even Lady Rhea seemed disturbed when he described the madness in the Professor’s eyes, as well as the Professor’s new technique.

“You must keep this secret from the other students.” The look on Seteth’s face left no room for argument, even though Felix very much wanted to argue. It was a battle, why the secrecy? Surely their classmates would want to know about what happened. “Thank you for informing us in the Professor’s place. You may take your leave.”

At that dismissal, both had left, in time for Ashe to run up and tell the boar that Marianne and Lysithea had also collapsed. He’d rushed off after him, and Felix was left alone.

Had Monica always been like that? Felix didn’t focus on where he was walking, instead thinking on the battle that had happened hours before. Monica had changed, in such a strange way, too. The leaf limbs she had been using only worked as shields, when she tried to use them as weapons the Professor had simply sliced them off. Her combat style suggested she wasn’t trained for prolonged fights, which meant she was more of an assassin than a soldier or a fighter. Someone with Byleth’s skill shouldn’t have had any trouble with her, yet they hadn’t been able to kill her.

They couldn’t have known the mage was there, yet that magic thing they'd done with the Sword, just as the mage appeared... In that time, those fragments could’ve hit her in the head, the neck.

Byleth never wasted a movement, their sparring matches together proved as much. So why pass up a chance to kill Monica if she was an enemy?

The sound of wood hitting a sack flitted into his thoughts. He became aware that muscle memory had brought him to the training hall, had already brought him to practicing his training. He smiled. Something familiar, at least, to distract him from the confusion Byleth’s actions had wrought.

And as though the goddess thought it funny to ruin a perfectly good training session, something in his head rattled loose and brought forth a memory.

_“Today’s dinner is a steak and then a cake that’s yummy yum…_

_Now it’s time to fill my tummy tummy tum!”_

This again? Felix shook his head and tried to focus on his target.

_“Stacks of steaks and cakes and crumbs and yums!”_

Felix grumbled in frustration and turned away from the target dummy, muttering complaints about the song. He stalked over to the weapons rack and stored the training weapon back in it’s rack and stomped out, headed for the mess hall.

Maybe some food would shut the song up.

…

It did.

And he found that the Blue Lions table was getting crowded.

At some point over the school year, the Professor had bought out the monastery’s entire stock of tea. Somehow. Then the tea parties had started. Students from the Golden Deer and Black Eagles were seen enjoying tea with them, gossiping idly about school, boys, girls, all that boring stuff. Felix hadn’t been invited to a tea party, which suited him just fine. More time he could spend training, picking up new techniques that the Professor taught, from the rare books that they had to hide from Seteth.

He was getting the hang of the Magiastra technique now. Annette had helped him refine his magic control to the point he could move faster than Sylvain on horseback by electro-boosting his way between soldiers. It fitted an assassin more than a swordmaster, but Byleth had brushed his comment aside and praised him for getting a handle on it.

The newer recruits had also started to pick up the techniques. Ignatz was coming into his own as an assassin, which was surprising considering his father was trying to turn him into a knight. Raphael was keeping pace with Caspar as a brawler, and Ferdinand (von Aegir. Felix thought him announcing his name mid battle was stupid) was making progress as a cavalier, though was still pretty far behind Leonie.

All the additions were making the Blue Lions’ table very busy at mealtimes. Leonie and Alois would sit either side of Byleth during meals, with Mercedes and Annette across from them. Dorothea would usually be sat next to whichever friend she made today, at least until the Professor ordered her to start working with Ferdinand. Then she’d usually sit across from him, with Petra and Ashe next to her, always ready with a rude comment whenever Ferdinand got too confident again. He, Sylvain, Ingrid, the boar and Dedue would be sat next to Leonie and Annette.

Speaking of which, Ashe and Petra were walking into the hall together, both seemingly in a good mood. Both started walking over to him, and he readied himself in case he was needed for something.

“Oh, hey Felix.” He glanced up at Ashe, watched Petra move to sit down further down the table. “We just ran into Annette, she said not to worry about today’s chores?”

Today’s chores were cleaning out the stables and sorting out the greenhouse. They’d been doing them together for the last few months.

“Where was she going?”  
“To the stables-“  
  


Felix rose from the table and set off out of the hall before Ashe could finish what he was saying. Whatever it was didn’t matter, Annette was trying to do their chores on her own again. The whole point of them doing them together was for the Synkroniseret Kamp training, he was not about to let her ruin that for whatever reason was bothering her now.

He pushed the concern from his mind, focussed instead on passing by the people around him, making sure not to fall into the pond on his way to the stables. He slipped between a pair of knights, ducked under a landing wyvern to a shout from Cyril and turned a corner.

“Annette.”

A loud whiny answered him, and he knew which stable she was in. He quickened his pace, reached the stable the pegasus’ cry had come from.

Annette was trying to muck out Arthur’s stable. Arthur, who was Ingrid’s pegasus, and shared much of his master’s mindset, was refusing to budge, likely because Annette was alone.

“Come on! Move!” Annette was stood behind Arthur, trying to push him out of the stable. Felix didn’t say anything, instead he leant against the stable wall and glared at the pegasus to keep him quiet, watching the smaller girl trying desperately to get Arthur to move.

“Ingrid told you before, Annette. Arthur won’t move unless he wants to.”

  
“Felix?”

Arthur, who had the sense of humour Ingrid lacked, took that as his cue to move forward. Annette stumbled forward, and had it not been for Felix grabbing her arm, would’ve gone face first into pegasus poop. Arthur let out a snort before trotting out of the stable.

“Didn’t the Professor tell you to stop doing our chores on your own?” Now she had her balance back, Felix let go of her. “We’re supposed to be a team.”

“Yes, well… I wanted to help you out…”

“By doing our chores?”  
“Yes!” At Felix’s unimpressed look, she finally relented. “Okay, fine! I was going to bribe you! So you’d forget!”

“Forget what?”

Now she was upset again. Apparently, she’d overheard him complaining about that song. The one with a mountain of sweets? That one. Now she reminded him of it, he remembered it, and her dancing with it. Which only seemed to upset her more, even though she was the one who made him remember. Asking about the other songs did not help.

What was she so embarrassed about? She was good at singing, and her footwork could’ve only have gotten better with the ball training they did.

“You’re a villain! You think you’re so funny, standing there with a straight face while you mock my singing and dancing?” He was just trying to be nice, they hadn’t had any problems over the last few months, unless they had, and he’d not noticed. Why was this of all things making her react so badly?

Why did she keep calling him a villain over and over again? He really didn’t understand her as a person. As a soldier, he knew her. Wind and electric magic were her strengths, as was her bolt axe. Her healing was coming along well, but she hated going hand-to-hand.

Annette as a person, however…

  
“I’ll hate you forever and ever!”

She made less sense than the Professor.


	5. Stormbound

At the request of the Professor, Jeralt remained at the monastery when they set off to track down Monica.

The knights had cornered her in the Sealed Forest, news that brought a frown to their face. Annette wasn’t sure why they seemed sad about it. Mercedes had woken up, but wasn’t able to use any magic without fainting again. Whatever that mage had done to her, they needed to find a solution for fixing it. If they captured Monica, they could figure out from her what had happened, right?

Byleth had ignored her when she explained that to them. Simply ordered Ferdinand and Leonie to take the lead in the groups, which definitely wasn’t like the Professor at all. Even when they were busy, they still made time to hear out their students. They must be taking Mercedes’ condition harder than she thought.

Dimitri and Marianne went with Ferdinand’s group. Marianne seemed a lot better now that Manuela had succeeded in extracting whatever had gotten into her and Lysithea from Mercie’s magic transfusion. Certainly, His Highness had been much happier to see her back up (Sylvain had muttered something that made the Prince go beet red when he stood up to welcome her back), and although she had looked quite embarrassed at the Blue Lions’ resounding cheer when she and Lysithea had walked into the classroom for their first days back, Annette was sure she’d seen her smile slightly as she sat down.

Byleth pushed up on their own, the absence of Mercedes next to them making them appear a very lonely figure as they made their way up the path. Leonie led her, Felix, Lysithea and Bernadetta around another way, instructing them to quietly eliminate the soldiers before they could take on the demonic beast.

Stealth casting was much simpler than the Synkroniseret Kamp. Just do the maths in your head, hide the sigil and redirect the spell to launch from somewhere else. The soldiers fell quickly, and Bernadetta’s bow took down the one out of their range.

The beast was no match for them either. Too easy for them as a group. She got distracted by the memory of her last argument with Felix while evading the monster’s attacks. Cheeks burning with embarrassment at the memory, she may have put a little too much force into her last wind spell.

“Who made that land beast fly? That’s not really a quiet way to fight.”

It crashed down onto another pair of soldiers with a heavy crash, and their cover was blown. The Professor was going to chew her out for that one later, she knew it. She still glared at Felix for that last comment, ready to snap back if he said anything else.

He didn’t. Mainly because he was busy slaughtering the soldiers that had come running at the sound of their companions’ yell of terror. Annette soon caught up to him, and between Leonie’s lance, Felix’s sword, her and Lysithea’s magic and Bernadetta’s bow, the enemies were defeated quickly.

Ferdinand’s group was also done with their enemies, from how Ingrid had Arthur hovering in the air over the trees. Ferdinand rode out of the treeline, Dimitri and Marianne behind him and Dedue bringing up the rear. Between the two groups and the Professor, Monica was trapped. She had nowhere to go.

She was in an even worse state than the battle a month ago. All of the leaf limbs (Felix’s name for them) were still missing, and she was now without her entire right arm. With her remaining hand, she held a dagger – one she had tried to stab Jeralt with, that had been thrown back at her by Byleth before she had teleported – yet despite being outnumbered, she still remained defiant.

“Surrender, Kronya.” Monica frowned at Byleth. Annette also frowned, but in confusion. Who was Kronya? Did Monica know them? “If you don’t, you will die here.”  
  
“If I don’t kill you, I will die here all the same!” Her eyes fixated on Byleth, and her grip on the dagger only grew tighter. “You made a fool of me back at the watchtower. That old man should have died, there and then! I will not let you make a fool of me again!”

Monica charged, dagger primed for Byleth’s heart. They didn’t move at all.

Monica’s arm sailed through the air as she staggered backwards, the Sword of the Creator buried in her own chest, mouth stuck wide open in an O shape as she realised what just happened.

The sword segmented, and Byleth yanked their sword up and out of Monica, whipping it at her severed arm and flinging it off the platform they were stood on. Byleth retracted the sword as another man appeared where it had been lying.

Tomas, or Solon, as he called himself now. He called Byleth the Fell Star too. Picked up Monica and –

Annette didn’t want to describe what Tomas had done to Monica. But when he had finished, she had vanished, along with Byleth. Tomas laughed, hard. But only for a while.

Byleth returned, slicing their way through nothingness to Tomas’ shock. He got five words out, “So, this is the power-“.

The Sword of the Creator segmented again, and the fragments sliced themselves through Tomas’ head, shut him up before he could finish what he was saying. Byleth didn’t even watch him die. They looked over at the students standing in front of where they had vanished only a moment ago.

“Ferdinand, have your group bring back Solon’s body. Leonie, your group should guard Ferdinand’s.” The Professor didn’t stop to speak to the students, ignored Marianne’s attempts to check up on him. They only stopped to pick up Monica’s arm – all that remained of her now – before walking over to where the Knights of Seiros were waiting, the Creator Sword fragments reforming into the Sword as they went. No questioning them to see if they were alright, no answers for those wondering what had just happened to them.

Felix was silent. She herself had no explanation for the Professor’s recent attitude. She knew they were concerned about Mercedes’ condition. They all were. But this wasn’t like them. Even the stories she had heard, of the Ashen Demon, described someone who was fiercely protective of their fellow mercenaries. Byleth had outright ignored them today.

Why were they so cold suddenly?

…

Still no answer was given, even as they arrived back at Garreg Mach. Byleth immediately disappeared to find Lady Rhea and Seteth, and the students began to disperse, except for herself, Ferdinand and Raphael. They were to bring the body of Solon and the arm of Monica to Professor Manuela. She was teaching the Black Eagles, or what was left of them as they arrived, and Annette couldn’t blame Edelgard for looking so surprised as Solon’s body came into view. Who brings a dead body into class?

“I’m not sure what the Professor wants me to do, I’m a healer, not a mortician,” Manuela complained as she led them away from the classroom. None of them could offer any explanation as they walked. Annette would run ahead to push open doors so Raphael could get through with the body, and Ferdinand was doing his hardest not to look at the severed arm he was carrying around. “Place him down on that bed.”

The Professor walked into the infirmary after Ferdinand had made his apologies and left as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving her and Raphael to wait for the Professor. “Thank you for bringing him here. Raphael, you may go, Annette, a moment?”

“Yes, Professor?” Annette approached Byleth warily. She knew they wouldn’t hurt her, but their recent behaviour made her cautious of them. She’d overheard Felix talking about the Professor’s “madness”, and while she didn’t know what that meant, she could easily guess from how they had run Monica through earlier.

“Captain Jeralt is speaking to your father in the training hall. He said he won’t let him leave until you get there.”

That wasn’t what she was expecting to hear. Annette blinked uncomprehendingly at the Professor. Her father was in the training hall? Just there? She hadn’t been able to catch more than flashes of his hair or him watching her from afar before disappearing, not able to reach him before he’d left again. Disappeared off to one dark corner or another to watch over His Highness, never giving an explanation as to why.

It couldn’t be that easy to corner him and drag him home, right?

  
“Annette.” Oh no! She’d been staring at the Professor. “Go.”

She did. She ran as fast as she could, ducking between knights and nuns and students with quick apologies and warnings. Sidestepped around Felix, who was making his way towards the infirmary, didn’t even give him chance to speak.

She forced the training doors open. Turned and looked around.

There. By the fireplace, with a dawning look of realisation. Her father tried to walk away, but Captain Jeralt was faster. Closed the doors, blocked his exit. He glared at her father.

“Talk to your daughter, Gustave. You owe her an explanation at the very least.”

Gustave, Gilbert, her father. He finally turned to face her. No more running after him as he ignored her pleas. She would bring him home today.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, father.” Words, long held since he left four years ago, began pouring out. “Why do you keep ignoring me? Why do you keep treating me like a stranger?”

“I have lost the right to face you or your mother.” Simple, succinct. All the explanation he had to give her. Gilbert turned away-

“This has nothing to do with rights! We’re family.” Family. Her, her mother, her father. They were family, they deserved to be together! “I’m your daughter…”

“Indeed. You are my daughter.” If he knew that, then it shouldn’t be a problem! He just had to come home- “Yet I am no father. I am only a fool that abandoned his family.”

“If you really think it’s foolish, then you should at least apologise to Mother. I’m fine now, but she deserves as much.” And she was. She’d come to Garreg Mach, she was learning amazing new things in her classes. Even with her partner being the villain that he is, Annette was on her way to becoming the Kingdom's first synchrocombatant. She was growing.

But her mother...

“She’s waited for you to return all this time, living under my uncle’s roof. Let her see your face, father! Apologise to her.”

“That I cannot do. I know you do not understand, but it is the way of things.” Gilbert frowned, and Annette watched his shoulders sag. “As for you, Annette, say the word and I’ll disappear from your life forever.”

No! That wasn’t what she wanted at all! Why couldn’t he understand that?

“Father-“

“But for now, I must return to my duties.” Gilbert pushed Jeralt aside as he tried to block the way once more and walked out of the training hall.

_How could Father be so cruel?_

Annette saw the sympathetic look Jeralt was giving her. She couldn’t stand it. All she wanted was for him to come home, or at the least to apologise to her mother for leaving them. Why was he so stubborn?

She felt the tears welling up again. One more rejection by her father. She refused to let them fall, instead turning to the weapons rack the training weapons were placed on. The footsteps walking away told her the captain had gone, which was good. She forced the tears back, picked up a training axe and walked over to one of the training dummies.

Stupid father not understanding. Stupid Felix mocking her. Stupid Mercie getting upset with her. Why was everything going wrong now?

Her stance was all wrong. Her posture would’ve gotten her a lecture, but right now, she just wanted to get this frustration out of her system.

So she swung.

...

Jeralt found his child in Abyss.

There was a certain precision in their actions, drawing blood from the body of Tomas, the librarian, now known as Solon. The dagger Monica had supposedly used to kill him was on the desk next to where Solon lay.

He didn’t say anything for a while, watching as Byleth poured over a book they’d pulled from the library down here. Two more books were open on the desk in front of them, and they occasionally glanced at them.

“What are you doing, kid?” Byleth looked up at the sound of his voice and closed the book with a snap. “Your hair’s all different, and your students saw you use that sword trick twice. Lady Rhea’s starting to get suspicious.”

“The Claws of the Goddess?” Byleth placed the book down and turned to look at the dagger. “She won’t reveal the truth behind it. She still has hope. But regarding my hair, you will have your answers soon.” Byleth broke the tip of the dagger off and dropped it in a mug of some sort of potion, watched it as it floated on the top. “So it’s not a weapon. Not in the traditional sense. Maybe it’s something attached to her blood…”  
  
“Attached to her blood?” Jeralt frowned. “Kid, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Mercedes’ condition isn’t anything we’ve seen before. I’m thinking it’s something to do with the Slitherers and their technology.”  
  
“Slitherers?”  
“What Solon and Monica were.” So the ones that had killed him, according to Byleth. “They have access to stone statues that can move, as well as weapons that strike from the sky. It could be something related to them.” Byleth paused, looking up from the mug they were mixing another potion in. “How did Gustave’s talk with Annette go?”  
  
“Not well. He told her to say the word and he’d leave her life forever.”  
  
“By the Goddess, he’s a stubborn fool.” Byleth picked up another mug and poured some murky black liquid from it into the potion, which didn’t react or mix. “Not a poison either.”

“What are you trying to do?”  
  
“I think whatever Thales gave Mercedes is making more of itself within her body. I want to figure out what it is and how to stop it from making more. I can’t figure out how it works, which means I can’t figure out how to cure it.”

“What, like reproducing?”  
“Yes. It doesn’t seem to be actively hostile to Mercedes’ body,” Byleth said as they picked up another mug and poured more of the black liquid into another cup. “But it’s causing her to collapse any time she uses magic. Pass me that vulnerary.”

Jeralt did. He winced as Byleth sliced the back of their hand open, watched the blood dripped into the cup.

He’d seen many battles, many strange things over the years. Yet the bizarre sight of the black liquid leaping out of the cup at the blood dripping into it, trying to get at Byleth’s hand but falling short made him shout. “Byleth!”  
  
“It’s fine.” Byleth chugged the vulnerary, and the liquid settled down as the flow of blood stopped. “It likes blood. The question is, why?” Byleth tapped the other book in front of them, looking into the cup the liquid was now resting in. “Does it just like blood? Or is it due to our Crests?”

The Professor looked up at their father. One of many changes they hoped to make was saving him, and they had succeeded in that. Saving the children would come next.

Right now, Mercedes was the priority. Soon, Lady Rhea would request that they go to the Holy Tomb to receive a vision from the Goddess. The Flame Emperor would appear, and the war would start.

If they could have the potential of a cure ready by the time the Flame Emperor appeared, then everything else would be fine. He could leave the cure to Yuri to finish. The boy was bright and was who everyone in Abyss looked to. He’d see it through.

A pang of guilt settled in Byleth’s stomach as they thought of what was to come. They’d have to inform Jeralt beforehand, but the truth couldn’t be told to the others.

This had to be the right path for them all. This had to be the one. Byleth didn't know if they could relive everything again if they were wrong. But to see this through, they would need to play the role of leader until the war was over.

One more round of being the Wandering Flame of Fódlan, lighting the way to victory. To peace. That was all Byleth needed to do.

Byleth just needed to keep the children alive. Survive this war. Then everyone would be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Claws of the Goddess was a concept I came up with after being inspired by the C Funnels from Gundam AGE and the GN Fangs from Gundam 00. Only someone with the Crest of Flames and a Creator Sword can use it.
> 
> Also, if any of the concepts in this story appeal to you and you're not happy with how I have used them, please feel free to use them in your own stories. Crediting where you got it from would be appreciated.


	6. The Battle of Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what would happen if I gave the cast of 3H Celestial Being tech...?
> 
> Eh. Edelgard would probably be cast as Setsuna.

No one could have seen the next month coming.

Lady Rhea announced that Professor Byleth would be entering the Holy Tomb to receive a vision from the goddess. Their new appearance was explained as a gift from the goddess Herself, granted to Byleth to allow them to defeat those who would oppose the Church.

Byleth themselves wasn’t around very often. Claude had mentioned tailing them into an area called Abyss, but wouldn’t say anything else, even when pressed by His Highness.

The entire month, the Professor only spoke to Annette once, during a group meeting with Dimitri, Marianne, Felix and Mercie, who was still on bed rest until further notice.

“You have all shown excellent growth and have done well to take to your training in Synkroniseret Kamp. You have held your end of the deal, so I shall hold up mine. Within your rooms are the gifts I have promised you all for trying the new technique. In a month’s time, graduation will be upon you all. While you will all be permitted to continue with your training at your own pace, I will no longer be teaching you.” The Professor turned to give a slip of paper, like the ones from month ago to Mercedes, and the students knew they had been dismissed.

So that was it. They’d all stuck out the training, stuck through months of working together. Now none of them knew what to do.

Felix wasn’t the first to leave, to Annette’s surprise. He stuck around as Dimitri and Marianne left, waited until Annette herself, seeing that Mercedes wasn’t willing to talk yet, was leaving before standing up.

“Annette.” The hesitance made her pause. Usually he was calm, confident. Dismissive at his worst. Not hesitant, and it made her look at him. He shifted uncomfortably for a moment, before shaking his head. “You’re a good training partner.”

“What?”  
“Nothing.” Felix left, pushing through the doors to the infirmary and Annette was left to think on what he meant by that. They’d argued all of the time, usually because he would rush off without her or ignored her. Or she tripped over him and got in his way while practicing. Surely, he must have been joking about her being a good person to train with?

She didn’t get an answer for that either.

In her room was a letter. She didn’t expect her father to be there, he’d taken to avoiding her again after all. But the letter was unexpected.

It was the Professor’s handwriting.

_Annette._

_My father tells me that Gustave still refuses to speak to you or your mother. While I cannot condone his actions, I can provide something of a reason for them._

_Your father’s sworn duty was to protect King Lambert. It was the duty of the knights to protect the King, and he failed in that duty because he survived where the King did not. Why he believes that is not for me to judge, as you will know the man better than I do. To atone for his failure, he refuses to go back to his family, and will serve Prince Dimitri until he feels he has repaid his failure to the King._

_Perhaps one day he may return home. Until that day, do not give up on him. Fathers are not around forever, and you will regret wasting time being angry with him when he goes._

_Professor Byleth Eisner._

She wasn’t angry with him. She just wanted him to go home to Mother.

But feeling like he failed the King… that made sense. So many of the knights had been devastated when the King had passed. The stories she’d heard at the Royal School of Sorcery, of those same knights leading the most brutal assaults on Duscur. Who threw themselves into battle, sacrificing themselves to regain the honour they felt they’d lost when the King died.

It made sense why he refused to come home. But she still had to try. He was her father, and she came here to bring him back.

She redoubled her efforts to corner him over the following weeks. She kept up some of the training hours she picked up from Felix, made sure she stayed on top of her studies. She was almost finished at Garreg Mach now, no point stopping now.

Before long, the day Byleth would enter the Holy Tomb was upon them.

The Blue Lions were all gathered around the throne. Claude had tried to sneak in behind Hilda, but was quickly thrown out by Dedue and Raphael, much to his amusement. All of them were waiting for Byleth to receive a vision.

The Professor sat down on the throne. Closed their eyes.

“It should be happening,” they heard Lady Rhea murmur. “I did everything right.”  
  


“Incoming.” Byleth spoke without opening their eyes. “Imperial soldiers. The Flame Emperor is with them. Get ready.”

Chaos ensued. The Imperial soldiers tried to raid the graves in the Holy Tomb, tried to steal the Crest Stones. The Blue Lions beat them back, took them back.

The Flame Emperor was cornered between Dimitri and Byleth, but did not go down easily. They fought with impressive power and speed, outmanoeuvring the Prince and forcing him back. Marianne entered the fight, and the tides changed.

Now the Flame Emperor was the one fighting for their life. Marianne did away with her magic, instead favouring a lance thrown to her by Ferdinand. When the Emperor tried to focus on one of them, the other would take advantage to land a hit, puncturing through the armour to draw blood. Despite their early advantage, they were losing.

They deflected one lance into the other, brought their axe down to shatter Marianne’s lance. Dimitri struck true, and smashed a hole into the mask they wore.

He paused, realisation dawning as one lavender eye looked at him through the hole in surprise. Byleth seized the chance, and grabbed the Emperor from behind, one hand tearing at the mask and pulling it off.

Edelgard stood before them, clad in the Flame Emperor’s armour. The former Black Eagles immediately started throwing questions around. Asking why.

Dimitri? He chuckled. Stared down at the mask before him. All along, the person he’d been hunting, the person Byleth had told him was the key to finding his family’s killers….

…was Edelgard.

He could appreciate the irony. Byleth had told him what happened to Edelgard, sworn him to secrecy. Yet here she was, playing the role of the leader TO those who’d killed his family. Who’d used her and her siblings as experiments. Who used Lysithea and her siblings.

Byleth’s sword went in front of him, and he heard the Professor speak. Offered a solution to Edelgard’s problems. A promise.

The ghosts of his father and mother demanded retribution. The heads of those truly behind their deaths would suffice. But to get them, he needed Edelgard’s head. The knowledge she held of them.

For now, he could satiate the voices with the rest of her. Marianne would know which parts he could break without killing her. Glenn agreed with him.

“Marianne.” The girl looked at him in concern. Unwarranted concern. “Can you heal Edelgard?”  
  
“Um…”  
“No matter.” Glenn wanted retribution. The dead demanded payment; the living could get their answers later. He smiled. Marianne recoiled. It did not matter.

All that mattered was Edelgard was the Flame Emperor. She tried to explain, but it did not matter. Reasons, explanations. She had been someone he’d respected. Had considered a worthy leader for the Empire, someone he could work alongside to bring prosperity to both their countries.

Had.

Yet the Flame Emperor was the key to finding the killers.

“I need you, Edelgard.” And he truly did. Byleth had made that clear. If the Flame Emperor died, so did his chance of getting at the people truly behind his parents’ deaths. But the dead required some recompense, to sooth them over until he could send them the ones behind it all. He tried to convince them, begged them to see the potential of getting the actual murderers.

They didn’t care. She was one of them. They wanted her to suffer as they did.

“But you will pay for what you’ve done first!”

His lance buried itself in the wall behind her. No matter. He saw the ghosts of his parents, warning him of an attack from the side. No matter. He seized the faces of two soldiers racing towards him. Mercenaries commanded by the Professor. No matter.

He killed them all the same. Hubert appeared beside Edelgard. He seized the lance from the dead mercenary at his feet, threw it at Hubert to stop him from interfering. It buried itself next to his own lance as Hubert and Edelgard warped away.

No matter. Fodlan was small. He’d mobilise the army, have them comb every inch of the land. She’d be brought to him, and he’d have his answers.

His family would have justice. The loss of Glenn had affected Felix, Ingrid and Rodrigue greatly, and he would get them the justice they were owed. Whether it be by Edelgard’s words, or with Edelgard’s head.

…

The Adrestian Empire declared war on the Church of Seiros two days later.

Such an unprecedented move spread fearful murmurs amongst the people at Garreg Mach. The former Black Eagles particularly feared the coming conflict, knowing soon their families would be involved in the war. Letters had soon arrived for Caspar and Linhardt, Ferdinand and Bernadetta. Their families wanted them home before the Empire’s army reached Garreg Mach.

The Empire’s army was marching towards Garreg Mach Monastery. In a month, they would arrive, and were under orders to destroy the Knights of Seiros, as well as the Archbishop and her confidants.

Bernadetta was the first to answer. At Byleth’s suggestion, she burned her letter and began to move into Abyss, rationalising that she was safer there than back with her father. Yuri agreed to keep an eye on her, at the Professor’s request. Her decision spurred the rest of them to answer.

Caspar wrote back, as did Linhardt and Ferdinand. All three of them chose to remain at the Monastery for the time being, explaining that they wished to finish their studies under the Professor before returning home. The Professor spoke to the Ashen Wolves in private. Spoke to Claude and Jeralt too.

Lady Rhea warned them that they would need to leave soon, to avoid being dragged into the coming conflict. They all knew that, all three houses knew that they couldn’t stay here for much longer.

The problem lay in that the approaching army was far greater in size than the Church was expecting. Alone, the Knights of Seiros and the Monastery’s guards wouldn’t survive. Dimitri was adamant about staying. He believed Edelgard would come with the army and would fight alongside them. An opportunity to capture her, to get the information he so needed, the vengeance the ghosts desired could not be passed up, no matter what the living claimed.

Felix was the first to give up. The boar was even more pig-headed than usual, and he wasn’t going to waste time helping the others convince it to leave. If it wanted to stay and die, it could.

So he resumed his training, testing the new sword the Professor had acquired for him. The hilt was damaged, but the blade looked as though it was newly made. He’d believed it to be but a legend. Yet the Professor had got him it, left it on his bed. A relic from the days of the Ten Elites, thought to be lost to history.

Let the Empire come. The Falchion and he were ready for them.

Ultimately, it was decided that Byleth’s class would be split into two halves. One half, led by Byleth, would assist the Knights of Seiros and the Monastery in the defence against the Empire. Felix, Annette, Dimitri, and Marianne would be amongst those helping with holding the line.

The second half would be led by Captain Jeralt and would be escorting the non-combatants and infirm from the Monastery. The former Black Eagles, along with Claude, Leonie and Mercedes, who still couldn’t cast magic but was quickly learning how to use a bow from Ashe and Petra, would be assisting the Captain with the evacuation.

Everyone was focussed on preparing for the coming battle. How could they not be? The Empire’s army was larger than anything they’d ever faced before. Even the professors, normally calm and collected, were concerned. Private discussions between the three in one of their rooms happened frequently. Sometimes Captain Jeralt would take part in them as well. The students didn’t know what was going on, only that one such discussion led to Jeralt leaving Hanneman’s room wearing a frustrated look on his face, with Byleth tailing after him.

The day they were all preparing for arrived sooner than they liked. Edelgard stood out amongst the ranks, still clad in her Flame Emperor armour that enraged Dimitri all so much. Soldiers stood tall, Empire and Church, student and teacher. The Death Knight and Hubert were at the side, awaiting their orders.

Perhaps one final speech was in order, before the destruction of the Church could begin in earnest.

Byleth shot down the soldier next to Edelgard with a bow. A warning, from the Professor to the student. Get it over with.

And she complied.

The Imperial army crashed against the outer wall of the Monastery, spells and arrows flying on either side as surprise assaults on both flanks punched entry holes into the grounds.

Hubert and Jeritza moved into the grounds, meeting armies led by Hapi and Lysithea respectively. Within moments, the Death Knight was neutralised, a testament to Lysithea’s strength. Byleth noted the irony behind her power, how it was being used against those who’d granted her it.

Hapi and Hubert engaged in a magic war with one another, trading spells, warping around each other’s shields to try and intercept the other, blasting apart each other’s troops. Hubert had power, but Hapi had patience. She knew that the Empire’s objective was to get to Lady Rhea. Their objective was to buy time for the evacuation to get far enough away. Stalling Hubert would certainly do that.

Spells collided, Miasmas flew into each other’s shields. An arrow coated in black liquid flew past Hapi’s head, and she was distracted enough to let her shield falter. A Dark Spikes T pinned her to the floor.

“It was a good effort.” Hubert prepared another spell. “But you picked the wrong side.”  
  
Hapi sighed. The roar of a demonic beast answered her.

Phase Two of the Professor’s plan began, and Hapi took advantage of Hubert’s distraction to blast him skywards with her own Dark Spikes T. A flying beast snatched him from the sky, and he turned his attention to freeing himself from the grip of the creature. With him effectively eliminated from the fight, Hapi chugged a vulnerary and ran to link up with Balthus and Constance.

The Empire finally broke through the front gate, sending it falling with a heavy crash. An explosion of magic ripped through the front line of their forces, and six of their own beasts trampled the remains of their soldiers to rush towards where Rhea stood waiting. Five people stood in their way, backed by an army of their own.

Byleth moved after the first two to approach, slicing through their armour and flesh with a dazzling swiftness that, had Annette blinked, she would’ve missed. Two more moved past them, and Dimitri charged forward intercept them. Marianne tried to keep pace, but found herself missing the timing on her attacks, the erratic way Dimitri was fighting forcing her to stop her attacks, lest she accidentally injure her friend with a misaimed spell. The second beast tried to flank her, and a swing of her lance tripped it up. She punctured the armour with a spell as Dimitri finally ran his beast through with his lance and ran ahead, desperately trying to hunt down Edelgard. Quickly finishing the creature off, she prayed for the Goddess to have mercy on them and ran after the Prince.

Felix and Annette faced no trouble with theirs, the Falchion slicing through the first beast like it was made of paper. Annette’s wind magic was stronger, far stronger than it should’ve been, and it lifted the second one up, high into the air, before it crashed to the ground with a sickening crack.

A deafening roar echoed behind them. Phase Three began, and Annette, in her awe and panic at the sight of the enormous, white skinned beast behind her, forgot the plan and ran off after the Professor. Who was running towards said beast.

“Annette!” Damn that girl! Felix swore and set off after her, feet beating as heavy as his heart was at the sight of the beast. He’d never seen a Demonic Beast like that before, and the Professor had warned them to stay away from it no matter what. He sliced through some Imperial soldiers in his way and continued running, trying to catch up to Annette and stop her from getting caught, or worse.

The beast roared, and burned away the nearby troops to nothing, before trying to fight with the Demonic Beasts that had slaughtered their troops. Were they the Hapi girl’s or the Empire’s? Felix didn’t know. But the white beast was soon covered in them, and the Professor was swinging their sword at every beast upon it, cutting them off and sending them all crashing to the ground.

It spoke. It didn’t attack the Professor, or them.

“Professor!”

Annette ran forwards and threw up a magical shield, and something immediately broke it and blasted her backwards with a scream. A mage, possibly the one from the watchtower, stood atop a hill, backed by more Imperial soldiers. They prepared a second spell as Annette got back to her feet, fired it as she tried to form another shield. No good. It’d kill her before she could.

Byleth ran in front of her and held their sword up, used it to deflect the spell away from them. Even so, the force of the spell pushed them back, pushed Annette back with them. She stumbled and fell to the side as they went through a hole in the monastery’s wall, only the small cliff in front of her saving her and the Professor from plummeting into the ravine below.

The cliff started to crumble. Annette scrambled backwards, hitting the wall behind her as the ground beneath her started to fall away, falling into the abyss below. The Professor stumbled and she ran forward, trying to grab their hand, stop them from falling.

She missed their hand, and for one, terrifying moment, wondered if this was how she was going to die. Falling down a cliff, in the middle of a battle. She didn’t want to die here; she didn’t want the Professor to die here either!

A strong pair of arms grabbed her from behind, hauled her back from the cliff. Byleth fell, their screams echoing around the cliffs as they went.

“Annette!” Felix shouted next to her; arms still wrapped around her as the ground crumbled further. He pulled her away from the hole in the wall. “We need to go!”

Annette ignored him, pulled her arms off of her, crawled over to the remains of the cliff. She couldn’t see the Professor anymore.

“Annette!” The whinnying of a pegasus next to her didn’t draw her attention. She looked frantically down into the ravine, trying to see if she could spot the Professor.

Felix picked her up, despite her best efforts to wriggle free from him and go back to trying to find the Professor. “We need to go, Annette.” She vaguely remembered being passed to Ingrid, as Felix mounted up behind Cyril on his wyvern.

“But the Professor is down there! Shouldn’t we help them?”

“They’re gone, Annette.” Ingrid said it as gently as she could. “We need to leave the monastery and find Captain Jeralt. Remember the plan.”

The plan had gone wrong. The Professor was gone.

Annette didn’t cry until they linked up with the rest of their defence group. There, as the carriages containing the stragglers of the defensive force rumbled across the uneven terrain, she finally gave in and broke down, tried her best to stay quiet as she cried.

The Professor was gone. Their screams haunted her for the rest of the journey into Galatea territory.


	7. The Start of a Rebellion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a treat. I'll upload this earlier than normal for you guys.

The plan had been in three parts.

Phase One had been to hold the line until the Imperials had breached the walls on the Monastery. Byleth had lined out two places where they would come through, had assigned Lysithea and Hapi to intercept them.

Phase Two would begin once the walls were breached. The Imperials were to be funnelled back towards the front gate, where a series of magical traps had been set up by Lady Rhea and the mages in their class to go off once they breached the gate. Byleth and the synchrocombatants would hold the line against any surviving Imperial forces that came with the first assault, while the rest of the students would link up with Lysithea and Hapi to drive the flanking Imperial forces towards the killzone.

Phase Three began at Byleth’s command. An enormous white demonic beast would be unleashed upon the Imperials, and when it roared, the rest of the students were to retreat from the Monastery, with Byleth and the Knights of Seiros staying behind to hold the line until the students could escape.

Annette had forgotten to retreat. And it had gotten the Professor killed.

Mercedes and the rest of the class were waiting for them in the Fraldarius castle. Annette tried to tell her what happened, that it was her fault the Professor had died. But she refused to listen, instead pulling her into a much-needed hug that made Annette break down again. Felix hadn’t said a word to her since they arrived, no doubt he too blamed her for the Professor’s death. The tray of tea left outside of her room was probably left there by a servant.

Her father arrived two days later, with Marianne and an unconscious Dimitri in tow. Marianne had later explained that His Highness had attempted to pursue Edelgard but ran into a trap. That they had killed a great many Imperial soldiers. In the end, the army had overwhelmed them and nearly killed. She’d exhausted herself trying to keep him alive and fell fast asleep the moment she’d finished explaining what had happened. Linhardt and Manuela checked him over and found that he was merely exhausted. Marianne had healed his wounds, thankfully.

Jeralt got a letter from her father. She got a stiff hug from him, more than she had in four years. Whatever was in that letter, it made Jeralt disappear, before she could tell him what had happened to his child.

The class began to disperse over the coming days. Most of the former Black Eagles chose not to go home. Petra had no choice in the matter, and she departed a day after Jeralt left. Instead, they began looking into places to make themselves useful. Annette couldn’t understand why they’d abandon their families like that, it made her feel uncomfortable. The Kingdom wasn’t at war with the Empire yet, they could still go home. Why would they choose not to?

“They don’t agree with what Edelgard is doing.” Dorothea had tried to explain it to her over tea with Mercedes. They weren’t back to being friends yet, but they weren’t angry at each other anymore. “Some things are worth leaving your family for.”

She didn’t agree with that at all. Family was all you had.

Caspar wound up leaving for Goneril territory, at the request of Hilda who needed a bodyguard. Or something. Ferdinand went with Lorenz to Gloucester, as Ferdinand and Lorenz had become fast friends during the school year. Dorothea went with Manuela into Riegan territory, looking to work together to put on shows for the folk in the Alliance. The Leicester Alliance was a much-needed change of scenery, according to them. No one seemed to want to return to the Empire, it seemed.

Linhardt went with Hanneman and Lysithea to Ordelia territory. It had been a request by the late Professor for them to accompany her there. Everyone else slowly returned home to their territories, and Annette and her father were one of the last to leave.

“Wait.”

Gustave had already placed everything into the carriage they would ride back to Dominic territory when Felix came out of the castle. His hair was a mess, and he was panting quite a bit. “Annette, here.”

A book. Advanced healing techniques for healers and clerics, it looked old and well read. Maybe it was one of his? “Ingrid had this in the castle library for a while. She never got around to reading it.”

“Oh! Thank you, Felix.” She was surprised to be getting a gift from him of all people. Even more so when he placed a dagger on top of the book, one that looked fresh and new, and expensive. Small, but like any knife, still lethal.

“Take the dagger too. Ingrid’s father thinks the Empire might start moving again soon.” He looked away awkwardly, staring off at a wall over in the distance. “Dominic should prepare for them in case Arundel surrenders.”

“I am sure Baron Dominic will be ready when the time comes.” Gustave cleared his throat, and Felix jolted slightly, let go of the book.

Annette took the dagger off the top and attached it to her waist, clutched the book close so it wouldn’t fall out of her hands. “Thank you, Felix. Stay safe.”  
  
“Thank you.” He walked back inside the castle, moving perhaps a little quicker than he usually did. It wasn’t that cold, was it?

Her father didn’t answer her unspoken question, and they were soon riding the carriage back home.

…

Her father stayed for two days, before returning to Fhirdiad to guard the Prince once more. Her mother was sad to see him leave, sadder still that he hadn’t apologised.

Letters started arriving, one by one. Mercedes’ came first, telling her not to blame herself for what happened to the Professor. They wanted them all to survive and keep going, that was why they had made the plan in the way it was. A recipe for her favourite cake was including in the letter.

To her surprise, a letter from Felix arrived a day later. Updates regarding Fraldarius and the Prince, complaints about the lack of challenge in dealing with the local bandits. He talked about the Falchion a lot. Invited her to come visit once the war between the Empire and the Church was resolved.

Annette soon fell into a routine. She’d help her mother and her uncle around with the house. eat, study the book she’d been given, train, eat, write letters or read letters she had received, sleep. Every day fell into that routine, with the only changes being when her father would write to her. Or the one letter she received from Captain Jeralt. It wasn’t long, and was barely legible, like he’d not had long to write it.

But it had been sent to her all the same.

The Empire was moving again. They’d retreated from Garreg Mach, and were now returning to Adrestia. She passed the news onto her uncle, wrote letters to everyone to warn them of it.

The day after she sent the letters, word arrived that Dimitri had killed his uncle, and the Kingdom of Fareghus collapsed in on itself.

…

The next few months, years, all passed in a blur.

His Highness was executed. Cornelia, the royal mage, took over as Queen of the Kingdom, and announced the Kingdom would become a part of the Adrestian Empire. Arundel surrendered and was absorbed into the Empire, Dominic was occupied by Imperial forces as her uncle surrendered to keep their people safe. Taxes were enforced upon everything, heavy taxes that depleted the coffers of their house, their people. More and more of her time was spent trying to heal those who couldn’t afford healers. Her Uncle sent letters begging Cornelia to ease the taxation, begging her to stop effectively starving their people out.

She only answered that she needed everything she could get to crush the Houses of Fraldarius and Galatea, who were rebelling against the new Dukedom of Fareghus.

The hopeless feeling within Dominic only worsened. Even with her taking pages from the books of Mercedes and Marianne, offering healing and prayers, there was only so much she could do. Imperial forces guarded the crops, with orders to deliver a swift and unforgiving death to those who trespassed or stole. Her Uncle was losing more and more power to the local Imperial general every day, and there was nothing she could do to stop it all.

The letters stopped arriving as well. Felix, Ingrid and Sylvain’s were the first to stop arriving. Then Ashe’s. Lysithea and Linhardt also stopped writing. The only ones who still consistently wrote to her were Marianne and Mercedes. Troubling rumours sprung up instead. A pair of Demonic Beasts had appeared in the Valley of Torment, Ailell, and were slaughtering anything and everything that tried to cut through. Resistance forces, Imperials, Dukedom, even Alliance traders and soldiers. The citizens of Dominic started to call them the Demons of Ailell. They were invisible, struck down anything that entered the valley, and no one ever saw them coming.

Taxes only increased as Cornelia directed troops to seize Ailell, they increased again as another Demonic Beast appeared elsewhere in the Dukedom, brutally killing Imperial patrols, platoons. Entire outposts were destroyed seemingly overnight. Cornelia committed more soldiers to strike down that beast, but the people started whispering, with hope for the first time in years.

It wasn’t a demonic beast. It was Dimitri, coming back to save them all.

Annette refused to believe it at first. The Prince was dead. Even if he was alive, she needed to focus on the people in Dominic first, help as many of the citizens as she could.

Until her father returned, holding a letter for her.

It had no name attached to it, but the handwriting was very familiar.

_Please return to the Monastery._

…

So there she was. Riding in a carriage with her father again, this time returning to the monastery they had all fled five years ago.

They were older now. She didn’t see the point of returning. Dominic needed her help still, all that was left of the old monastery now was abandoned buildings and a few lowly thieves, but she was returning all the same. She’d brought her old satchel with her, filled it with what few medical supplies they could spare in case someone there was hurt. Felix’s dagger was attached to its usual spot under her capelet, easily reachable if she needed to use it. She was nervous, but ready.

Her father hadn’t known who the letter was from either, only that Captain Jeralt had passed it along to him, which only made her more suspicious, and yet hopeful of who had actually written it.

The hope only grew as the carriage rumbled to a stop, and she opened the door to be greeted by the sight of Mercedes and Bernadetta.

“Mercie! Bernadetta!” Annette almost stumbled as she climbed down, but turned it into a hug as she reached Mercedes, one that was easily and warmly returned. “I’m glad to see you’re both alright.”

“I was worried something might have happened. I’m glad you’re okay Annie.” Mercedes let go of her best friend and turned to Gilbert. “It’s good to see you’re okay, Sir Gilbert.”  
  
“And you, Mercedes. Who is your friend here?”

“This is Bernadetta.” Bernadetta scrambled to hide behind Mercedes. “She stayed here at the monastery as we left. She wrote the letters you and Annie received.”

So they weren’t from the Professor? Annette deflated slightly.  
  
“Um… It was Captain Jeralt’s idea!” Bernadetta looked terrified as Annette and Gilbert looked at her, Gilbert with surprise, Annette with confusion. ”He thought the Professor might come back! And they did! They’re alive!”  
  
“The Professor’s alive!?” Annette had seen them fall, heard them scream. For five years, she thought she’d gotten them killed! How could they be alive? “Are you sure about this, Bernadetta?”  
  
“Yes! And Prince Dimitri is with them!”  
  
“Then Captain Jeralt was telling the truth." Gilbert's face changed, set itself in stone with a determined look. "Come, Annette. Where is His Highness and the Professor?”

“They went into the town near the Monastery!” Bernadetta scurried off from behind Mercedes. The three of them ran after her, trying to keep their eyes on the mop of purple hair that was moving far faster than them.

The monastery was indeed in ruins, as they expected. Gilbert gave orders as they ran, he and Mercedes would go one way, Annette and Bernadetta would go another. Taking orders from her father was a strange experience, but she followed them anyway, sprinting to catch up to Bernadetta as she began to slow down.

“There… there! Ahead of us!” Bernadetta pointed, then looked around wildly. “Where did Mercedes and G-Gilbert go!?”  
  
“They went another way.” Both girls stopped to catch their breath for a moment, before drawing their weapons. “Let’s go, Bernadetta. Let’s stop these thieves!”  
  
“R-Right!”

Dagger in her left hand, wind magic ready in her right, fighting with Bernadetta was wildly different to Felix. Bernadetta had been fighting far more than she had in the past few months, and it showed in how she flawlessly nocked arrow after arrow, sending any thief that ran towards them to burn in the eternal flames.

Annette? She was slow. The dagger thrusts were a little off, the magic didn’t have the power it used to. It still killed, but she could see areas she needed to train more in, get faster in. She’d spent the last few years doing more healing than fighting, and it showed. Any nicks and bruises were healed away in a moment, actually inflicting nicks and bruises took a little while to get back into.

But she fought well. Lysithea and Constance announced their arrival into the fight by bombarding the thieves’ reinforcements with magic and wiping out a good chunk of them. Jeralt and Leonie rushed the remains of their reinforcements from behind wiping them out completely and cutting off the thieves intended escape route.

The thieves were routed and were trying to flee the area. Some going one way, others going another. She separated from the group to cut off one smaller group, comprised of three. Her wind magic shredded the first one, and he fell screaming. She fried the second with a bolt of lightning, and the third struck her from behind, knocking her down. The combination of overconfidence, being out of practice and the thief’s rusty dagger piercing her neck would get her killed, it seemed.

The thief screamed, let out their final death rattle. Annette flipped over to see a pegasus flying overhead, Ingrid riding it and Felix next to her, pulling the Falchion out of the thief and-

By the Goddess, Felix was handsome now!

“Annette.” He offered her his hand.

“Felix?” When had he gotten so handsome? Letters couldn’t really provide much of a description of someone growing up and yes, it had been five years but-

“We still need to stop the thieves.”  
  
Right, yeah. They were in the middle of a battle, weren’t they? Annette shook the intrusive thoughts from her head and took his hand, clambering back to her feet as much as he pulled her up. She hoped she hadn’t looked as embarrassed as she’d felt.

“You’ve still got the dagger.”  
  
Hm? Oh, the dagger she’d been using as a replacement for her axe. He was holding it, looking at it with some surprise.

“Yeah, I have. Thank you for it, Felix.” Was she babbling? Why was she babbling in the middle of a battle?

“It’s…” He didn’t finish his sentence, just passed it back to her while refusing to meet her eyes, before running after another thief who was running away from Ingrid.

Right, the thieves! Annette set a wind trap at the doors she’d been trying to get to in case another thief tried to escape through it. She caught back up to her father and Mercedes, who was almost out of arrows, and started casting wind and faith magic at the thieves approaching them. Not the cleanest spell, or the most devastating, but it did enough to stagger them, make them easy pickings for Mercedes’ last arrow and her father’s axe.

With the last of the thieves killed, they regrouped just outside the battlefield.

The Professor was really standing before them all, looking around appraisingly. They cracked a smile, turned to face herself and Mercedes.

“It’s good to see you all again.” Byleth looked directly at Annette as they spoke. “I hope everyone is alright.”

“Professor, I am so sorry-“  
“Don’t apologise, Annette. Please. It wasn’t your fault.”  
“But it was! I forgot the plan!” She needed to apologise. The Professor spent five years missing because of her! “If I had remembered to leave when I was supposed to, you wouldn’t have had to protect me.”  
  
“Some things are fated to happen, Annette. Even if you had not been there, I would have fallen anyway.”

They couldn’t have known that! “Professor-“

“I think that’s enough.” Jeralt pulled Byleth into a bear crushing hug, ignoring his child’s flailing as they tried to free themselves. “It’s been five years. I think we all need a drink and a catch up first.”  
  
“Father, please, you stink of booze and blood, let me go-“  
“Then let it be a lesson. Don’t disappear on your father for years ever again, Byleth.” Jeralt didn’t relent, even welcomed Mercedes into it when she tried to hug the Professor as well.

Then everyone else joined in. Felix grumbled but was pulled into it by Ingrid, ended up wrapping one arm around her, one around Annette. The Prince and Bernadetta both tried to squirm out of it. Dimitri instead got pulled into it by Byleth, who snagged him with their free arm and pulled them in close. Bernadetta settled for being on the outside of the hug pile, with Sylvain and Yuri.

In the later days of the war, when it seemed at it’s worse, Annette would remember that day fondly, remembered how Felix smiled when he thought no one was looking.

When she asked Felix about it later, his answer was he didn’t remember smiling, but how content she looked, trapped in the pile between him and Mercedes.


	8. Beast Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First proper fight sequence of the timeskip. Let's go beast hunting!

“What do you mean, Yuri didn’t work on the cure!?”

It was the first time any of them had heard the Professor shout. They’d raised their voice before, plenty of times, but they’d never shouted at anyone before. All eyes in the dining hall were pulled towards the scene before them, as Mercedes was stood between Byleth and Hanneman, who had pushed Lysithea and Linhardt behind him and was furiously staring down Byleth.

“Mercedes’ condition is stable, so long as she doesn’t use any magic. Lysithea’s condition is much worse than Mercedes’, and she herself told us to cure Lysithea first. You’ve been gone for five years, Professor. Priorities change, especially when people get put into such precarious positions.”

Byleth sighed. “All you had to do was take the information I had already prepared for you and create the cure from that. You had Solon and Kronya there to harvest material from! At least tell me you’re close to curing Lysithea after spending five years working on her problem?”  
  
“If you would have allowed me to finish what I was saying first-“ Hanneman finally took notice of all the eyes staring at them- “I would have told you that we almost have a method sorted- be careful with those notes, Professor!”

Byleth handed them back a second later. “Make sure it’s not from a Crest bearer or you’ll be right back where you began. It’ll work as is for Mercedes but double the amount when you do Lysithea’s. That way you get rid of both. If you leave the other one intact, you will kill her.” Hanneman’s mouth dropped open in surprise, and Byleth cut off any attempt by Lysithea to question them with a wave of their hand. “I’ll get you the materials you need if you promise to extract some of whatever that poison was from Mercedes while I’m gone.”  
  
“Gone? B-But we’re in the middle of a war! What about everyone else here? Professor, you can’t just run around Fódlan right now, people still think you’re dead!”  
  


“It’s not the first-time people have thought that.” Jeralt snorted from somewhere to Felix’s left. “You’re all adults here, surely you can look after yourselves without me? If anyone comes looking, my father can turn them away. So long as everyone behaves themselves and doesn’t start any fights, you all will be fine for a week. I’ll be back before long.”

Byleth left that night, heading off on horseback away from the monastery sans the Sword of the Creator, which was left in a safe place that no one was allowed to enter.

Felix was sure that there were safer places than Bernadetta’s bedroom, but there it was, locked in her room, occasionally with Bernadetta herself. Nevertheless, the rest of the group got to work cleaning up the monastery, shifting the ruins from the Empire’s attack five years ago, trying to make the place liveable again. Felix was usually tasked with handling heavy lifting with Sylvain and Ingrid, since Gustave would be on boar-sitting duty during the day.

Yes, it had been five years. Yes, he had gone home with Annette. But he kept pretending to be Gilbert. Felix wasn’t going to play along with his delusions of having betrayed Dimitri’s father by living by calling him by his pretend name. The Boar clinging to the dead was more than enough for him to put up with.

Speaking of the Boar, it had finally shed the skin of Dimitri that it had been wearing, and a tiny part of Felix had hoped that maybe, just maybe, someone else would notice and try to knock some sense into it.

He was wrong to hope. The others were concerned, they talked amongst themselves about what a shame it was, but they did nothing to help. Sylvain and Ingrid were trying, but that was it. Not even the Professor tried, which was the most damning thing. Mercedes was fine. She couldn’t cast magic anymore, but she had survived for years without it. Yet the Professor was more concerned with her than with the Boar. It was the one who needed help more out of everyone at the monastery, and no one was helping.

So Felix quashed that hope, steeled his resolve. The Boar couldn’t be saved, nor was anyone going to save it. When the time came, he would have to put it down.

For now, he focussed on other matters. The Knights of Seiros returned, along with Seteth and Flayn. They’d met Byleth in their travels, been directed back to Garreg Mach. Ferdinand arrived soon after. Dorothea and Professor Manuela were not far behind, accompanied by Caspar, who they’d roped into becoming a bodyguard of sorts. They’d become stars in Leicester with their operas and performances, if the news from the Alliance was to be believed.

Dedue was dead. The Boar said as much before stalking off. Felix wasn’t surprised but was disappointed all the same. Dedue had apparently given his life to save the Boar, and it didn’t show any regret at all. Just muttered pleas to wait. Dumb animal.

He prayed that Dedue was at peace. It was the least he could do for a classmate killed by the Boar.

Raphael and Ignatz were the last ones to arrive, bringing news from Hilda with them. Almyra was taking advantage of the war to try and push past Fodlan’s Throat, and Goneril were focussed on pushing them back out of the mountain range. No word came from Marianne, or Ashe and Petra. Felix was left to assume the worst had happened.

The others refused to believe it. They believed they were still alive, still out there somewhere. The Boar spent most of its time around a horse in the stables after it too came to the realisation.

Felix? He found himself being lured all over the monastery.

One of the story books from when he was a kid told the tale of Pan and the Siren, who’s voice was the most beautiful thing a person could hear, and who could lead anyone anywhere by singing a song. Pan had enlisted her help to defeat a rampaging Umbral Beast, by luring out the wicked creature with her voice, but it had come at great cost to the Siren. She had sacrificed herself to save Pan from a mortal blow.

Felix had no proof of course that there was a siren at the monastery. But all the same, he found himself being pulled around by songs no one else seemed to be affected by. It wasn’t Dorothea, or Manuela, he’d been pulled into enough choir practice to be able to tell it wasn’t them.

Instead, he found the source to be Annette. Which he really should’ve realised sooner.

He’d been trying to return some books Linhardt had taken down to Abyss, trying not to gag at the drool stains on the pages of the book when another song had started to ring out. A newer one, not one he’d heard before.

“Oh, how I just love to clean. Clean the library room!”

The source of the singing was in the library, where he was supposed to be going. He picked up the pace, found himself outside the doors. He pushed open the doors, wincing as they creaked, and peeked inside.

“Just takes a flash of light, and then it all goes boom! A flash and a big boom!”

It was Annette. Who else could it be? Felix shook himself and walked inside, placing the books down on a table as he approached her. Calm, stoic. She was just singing, that was all. She wasn’t dancing this time.

A flash and a big boom, though. Wouldn’t that be an explosion?

“If you blow up the library, where would we put the books?”  
  
"Bah!" Annette, not expecting Felix to appear out of literally nowhere, screamed and spun around so fast it made her head spin too. “What are you doing here, Felix?!” She stumbled a bit, caught herself.

“I heard singing.”  
“You were watching me again, weren’t you?”  
“No.” Why did she keep thinking he was watching her? He didn’t watch people. Least of all her. “I heard singing, so I came to find who was singing.”  
  
“You heard me today of all days?” Annette groaned, and Felix decided that perhaps it wasn’t best to mention how he had heard her singing every day for the past week. Ingrid had already given him one lecture about getting distracted, and Sylvain was being even more Sylvain than usual. “I knew I should’ve chosen a different song…”

He was getting distracted. “A different song?”

“Any of them! Like the box song, or the dungeon song.”

“Now those sound interesting.” He hadn’t heard the dungeon song. What could you even sing about a dungeon? How dark and dirty it is? How creepy they are?

“No, they’re just regular songs!” She didn’t seem as embarrassed about being overheard today though. “Oh, forget it. While you’re here, can you help me clean up? Those books need to go up there, but I can’t reach.”

Oh. That was where these books were supposed to go too. Convenient. “Sure. No problem.”

He remembered something as he was placing the books on the shelf. He’d heard a part of the box song the other day. Something about stacking boxes and hiding in one, before Sylvain had come along and loudly announced his arrival, before asking to borrow Falchion for something.

Whatever that something was, it landed him in the infirmary with a head injury. And stuck him with a raving boar for company since Gustave was busy going over logistics with Jeralt.

The library had fallen silent. He could hear his own heartbeat, beating loud and clear in the quiet. Which meant it was too quiet and he needed to talk to chase out the awkward feeling that seemed to fill up the library. “What? You’re not going to sing anymore?”

“No way! It’s too embarrassing!” He was wrong about her being less embarrassed then. “And that song isn’t even finished anyway.”

“Ah. That’s too bad.” Felix climbed back down the ladder, turned back to Annette with a disappointed frown. “I wanted to hear what happened after the library was blown away.” He’d have to come back another day. Still, finding out who the siren in the monastery was did take a load off his mind. He could focus on his training now.

“Hey…” Annette frowned. Why did he have to look so much like a sad cat when he seemed let down? She could swear he was the furthest thing from a cat-no, wait. Maybe not. “Okay, fine,” she muttered with a sigh, “if you insist, I’ll sing just a little bit more…”

And she did. He got a front row seat to a live performance by the siren who’d haunted Garreg Mach. To be honest, he kind of enjoyed hearing her sing. She wasn’t an opera singer, like the ones he used to watch with his mother and father and Glenn, but there was a certain passion behind what she sung that attracted his attention and made him listen to every word.

And she had finished that song! Though it did leave him wondering what happened to the library. Maybe they’d build a new one?

She thought it was embarrassing. He didn’t mind at all.

He did offer to let her train with him. After her fight against the thieves earlier in the week, it was apparent that she really had fallen behind in her training.

“I don’t think I should. I might slow you down.”  
“Then we should train now, so you don’t. Your muscles will remember better than your memory will.” Besides, knowing the Professor, they were going to have to work together again anyway. Marianne wasn’t here, and Mercedes couldn’t use magic.

“We’re the only ones left from that class. You’re better with magic than I am.”

Annette relented, if only because she wanted to make the Professor proud. She still needed to make up for almost getting them killed five years ago. Only because of that, though, why else would she work with such a dastardly villain?

Their training began in earnest the next day.

…

Byleth returned two days later to Dimitri attempting to leave Garreg Mach. Despite the protests of Gustave, Jeralt, Felix, and everyone else at the monastery, he was determined to set off for Enbarr, determined to rip Edelgard’s head from her shoulders.

A few whispered words in his ear, and his focus was changed entirely. Edelgard wouldn’t need to leave Enbarr for the time being, but the Professor had brought him information that was far more pressing.

The whereabouts of one Marianne von Edmund.

Perhaps, back when he was a student, Dimitri had held a torch for his synchropartner. Perhaps that part of him still held an ember of that torch, that still flickered after all this time.

The rest of him remembered the power she had given him, the power to bring down anything and anyone when they fought together. Such strength was unrivalled, even when compared to the Professor. If she was fighting alongside him, he could easily reach Enbarr. He could rip Edelgard apart without even trying, and then that stupid part of him that offended his family by wanting something more than their peace and happiness could offer the remains of the Flame Emperor to her, or whatever it wanted her for. She was good luck to him, he remembered that much. She’d be useful in his vendetta.

Dimitri agreed to go with Byleth to rescue Marianne. From there, Byleth picked out a few other students, Felix and Annette among them, and set off for Edmund territory.

They explained the situation as they flew into Leicester territory.

“There’s been another Demonic Beast sighting in a forest near Castle Edmund. If the rumours are true, this one has been responsible for many deaths since even before the war. Marianne took two battalions out to go hunt it down. But that was two months ago.”

“Then we keep going.” Dimitri prowled around impatiently as they gave the pegasi and wyverns a rest, clad in full fortress knight armour to disguise who he actually was. It was a miracle Arthur and Ingrid had managed to carry him at all, thought Byleth kept that thought private. “We don’t have long.”

“They need time to rest, Boar.” Felix walked over from where Cyril and Seiros the Wyvern were sat down, glaring down the former Prince as he approached. “If you have a problem with waiting then walk there.”  
“That’s fine. I’ll go alone.”  
“You’ll fly with us, Dimitri.” Byleth’s tone carried warning, stifled as it was by the hood they were wearing. “And you’ll stop aggravating him, Fraldarius.”

“Professor-“  
“I’m not your Professor now, I am your commander and we are on a mission. Remember your place, remember what the mission is. I won’t tolerate infighting amongst my men. Are we clear?”

Felix bit back the retort that sat on his tongue. If the Professor was going to start coddling the Boar too then he’d have a problem once they got back to the Monastery. For now, he held back his words, and answered with a calm “I understand.”

They resumed their flight an hour later. Felix rode with Cyril, clinging onto the smaller boy as he moved Seiros through trees and flocks of birds. Ingrid and the Boar were just behind Byleth on Arthur. Annette brought up the rear on her own Pegasus, as part of her training to become a dark flier, and Byleth flew at the front aboard Boltis, their own wyvern.

It took a few days to reach the territory of Edmund, as Byleth frequently took detours around various territories, and Arthur needed to rest from the weight of carrying Dimitri. But they arrived there within a week.

“Professor!” Hilda was waiting for them as they landed. “You brought help!”  
  
“Of course I did.” Byleth ignored the looks of confusion from the students behind them as they climbed off of Boltis. “Where’s Margrave Edmund?”  
“He had to set off, but he’s agreed to allow you to go into the forest Marianne was last seen in. I’m coming with you, of course.”  
  


Felix and Ingrid traded a surprised look, but neither was willing to say anything.

The sight of the forest that greeted them as they arrived was one that haunted them for the rest of the war.

Soldiers were strewn about all over the forest floor. Even with the fog obscuring their view, they saw enough to easily understand why she had vanished. Some were intact, others… not so. Occasionally, they would see the remains of a Demonic Beast, surrounded by more bodies of Edmund soldiers.

Annette was the first to realise.

“It’s a nest.” The others turned to look at her. “This forest must be a nest for Demonic Beasts!”

The roaring that answered her made all of them instantly turn around in fear.

“You will not leave here alive.” The voice spoke with authority, chilling authority that made even Byleth take a step back. “The Demonic Beasts that nest here have smelled your blood!”

The ground shook as though Fódlan itself was quaking in fear, and another voice -feminine, not demonic- screamed in pain.

Dimitri discarded his armour in an instant.

“Wait!” Byleth leapt to grab him, missed him as the Prince charged off into the fog, spear in hand and a murderous gleam in his eye. Byleth swore. They couldn’t mask the fear, the anxiety they felt upon hearing that scream, instead used it to fuel their next action. “Prepare for Demonic Beasts! Felix, Annette, go with Hilda and chase down Dimitri! Cyril, Ingrid, get airborne and find if there are any other Beasts nearby!”

The situation was bad, really, really bad. They’d walked into a nest for Demonic Beasts by accident, they couldn’t see a thing in this mist, the Prince had disappeared in the direction of the scream and they didn’t know where Marianne was. Annette quickly took to the air on her pegasus, desperately willing His Highness to give some sign of where he was.

There!

“Hilda, on your left!” Hilda spun and buried the relic of her House into the head of a giant wolf that had leapt out of the mist at her. She’d lost the Prince in the struggle, but Felix quickly ran over and ran the beast through with the Falchion. She sighed in relief that they were both okay.

“Annette!” Instinct made her pulled the pegasus sideways as a giant bird squawked at her, tried to skewer the pegasus and her in one go. Instead it crashed in front of Felix and Hilda with a sickening crunch, didn’t move after that. The Prince appeared through the fog briefly, and she urged her pegasus forwards, trying to catch up with him before he could get himself injured or worse. A wolf lay at his feet, half a lance buried in its head as Dimitri pulled another lance from the remains of a nearby soldier.

“Your Highness! Wait!” Annette got the pegasus to hold, trying to stall the Prince until Felix and Hilda caught up. “Please, stop rushing ahead! Wait for us!”

Another beast roared and she saw it, something that didn’t look like a wolf, or a bird. Something old. Truly monstrous.

It saw her. She didn’t remember what happened next, she only remembered waking up on the ground, the Professor casting healing spell after healing spell onto her.

She’d later find out that the beast had flung something at her. Her pegasus had bucked her off to protect her and took the attack head on. She survived, her pegasus didn’t.

She could grieve later. She forced herself back to her feet, ignoring the Professor’s protests to stay down. Her Bolt Axe had fallen nearby, and she seized it, ran in the direction the yells of combat were coming from.

Marianne was there, leaning heavily on a lance as she panted. Her outfit was torn and bloodstained, there was a notable scar on her leg that looked recently healed and various cuts and bruises covered her arms, her face. Dimitri and Hilda were facing the beast head-on, not synchronised by any means but fighting with everything they had to force the beast back.

Felix was moving behind it, and she ducked into the treeline to follow him, trying desperately to remember her training with the Professor, how they used to synch up in battle five years ago. The Professor had said it was due to finding common ground and a common goal, didn’t they? Wouldn’t saving Marianne from this beast be enough?

Nothing. She felt nothing coming from Felix, even as she got close to him and started trying to smash a hole in the beast’s armour with her axe. He wasn’t doing this for Marianne’s sake, he wasn’t trying to save a fellow classmate. Why was he fighting here? Just the Professor’s orders?

The beast turned, and Annette drove a bolt of lightning into the ground in front of it to blind it for a moment, giving her time to move. If she couldn’t synch up to Felix, then that was out, and standard tactics would have to work. Blinding it, disorienting it and then defeating it would have to work.

“Felix!” she called out. “Move back!”

He did as she ordered and she cast a wind spell, not as strong as she hoped, but enough to blow dirt into the beast’s eye-

The beast roared and started to flail around, and Annette noticed that the Professor had driven their sword into its head. Switch disorienting for distracting, proceed to defeating the beast. She knew this tactic; it was favoured by Almyran mercenaries. One soldier on top of a Demonic Beast to distract it, four pinning it down, whoever was left would butcher it.

She threw her axe to Felix, who caught it without even looking. Cast another wind spell at the beast, this one aimed at its feet to knock it off balance, and it tumbled and landed on its face with an angry roar.

Ingrid and Cyril leapt off their mounts, driving their lances into the beast’s forelegs to keep it pinned as Marianne and Dimitri ran around from behind the beast, spearing the back legs with their own lances. Hilda ran around Dimitri and Ingrid, complaining all the way, and drove her axe into the armour under the monster’s neck with a frustrated yell.

“Move it, you two!” Hilda yanked the axe away, pulling the beast’s armour off with it. “I’m not going home covered in sweat again!”

Annette charged a wind spell as Felix threw a steel sword into the newly made opening, before drawing Falchion and vanishing. A flawless Magiastra ripped the opening wider and wider with both swords. Made it impossible to miss.

He stopped next to her, sheathed the swords and charged a Thoron spell to match her Excalibur.

Both locked eyes, both synchronised in thought.

Supercharged by her Bolt Axe, the strongest magic spells they had ever cast blasted out of their hands, into the beast who howled, screamed as the magic shredded it’s body, burned its way through to its crest stone, shattered its heart with a flash of light.

It spoke its last words to Marianne, explained the truth, pledged its relic to it. One of the Elites, it turned out.

Annette left as everyone reunited, went to find her pegasus. Behind a tree, next to two dead Edmund soldiers he lay, eyes frozen in defiance even in death.

She closed them, wept for the poor animal. Another dead, just like the soldiers here.

She stayed there until Marianne came to find her, using a lance to support her as she walked. Marianne helped her pray for his soul.

She was supposed to choose a name for him when she passed her dark flier exams. She gave him one, before they set off to return to the Monastery.

Indech the Pegasus, after one of the Four Saints. She hoped the Saints wouldn’t mind too much, and that the Goddess would grant him peace.


	9. The Demons of Ailell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's references to torture and a blatant acknowledgement of a suicide pact in this chapter. I'll include a summary of the chapter in the bottom AN for those who are uncomfortable with those topics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Demons of Ailell!
> 
> This, along with Beast Hunting and a couple of sections later in the story were my favourite parts to write. I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

They returned to the Empire laying siege to Garreg Mach.

A small force of Imperials was attempting to breach the entrance to Garreg Mach as they approached, and even from as far away as they were, they could see Jeralt and Seteth leading the defence against them.

Naturally, the ideal solution was for them to rush them from behind, capture their leader and smash the Empire’s forces to ensure no word escaped of the Monastery being used again. Naturally, this presented the group two problems:

One, Byleth was with them. Only the Houses of Goneril, Ordelia and Edmund knew of Byleth’s survival, and revealing the survival of the Professor would no doubt draw Imperial attention to the Monastery.

Two, Dimitri was also with them, and had lost his disguise during the battle against the Wandering Beast. Revealing the Prince’s survival would draw both Imperial and Dukedom attention to the Monastery.

So naturally, Dimitri ignored any tactical planning and charged right into the midst of the attacking Imperials.

“There goes the Boar,” Felix muttered to himself as Byleth set off after him, with Ingrid and Cyril flying alongside to try and coral the dumb animal into not getting himself killed again.

“He’s not a boar.” Felix looked over at Marianne. Still in a state despite returning home, with the Blutgang on her hip, she watched the Boar rush into the fray with worry in her eyes. “He’s still Dimitri.”

“It’s not. I think I know that thing better than you do.”

“He’s still in there.” If she was talking about anyone else, he’d dismiss her with an annoyed scoff and call her crazy, but she was talking about the Boar.

Despite everything that had happened, the changes the Boar had gone through, Felix missed his friend. But that thing that had worn his face for almost nine years now wasn’t his friend. He wanted to believe he’d died at Duscur with his family, that he hadn’t turned into some rampaging beast who only cared for murder, for revenge for the sake of the dead.

But someone else could still see Dimitri in that thing. Someone else still held hope, like he had.

So he let out an annoyed scoff and folded his arms. “Then pull him out of that boar skin he’s wearing. But don’t complain when it gets you killed like it did Dedue.”

“Dedue is dead?”

“Yeah. He died saving that thing from being executed.”

“I did not know.” The silence that settled after that was awkward, especially so as Felix tried to ignore Annette and Hilda glaring at the back of his head. “I am sorry for his loss.”

“Tell that to that thing. Maybe it’ll stop begging Dedue for forgiveness in its sleep.”

The battle raged on, and as Byleth had predicted, the two-way assault led to the Imperial forces being crushed, and their commander’s capture. A relative of Caspar’s, Byleth took him away from the Boar’s hungry grasp and into the Monastery’s dungeons with Jeralt in tow.

They didn’t elaborate on what they did to the man. They left the cell he was in several times, returning with ropes, a bucket filled with water. Some sort of pot from the kitchens. But they didn’t stay with him long, and Byleth ordered them to ignore any screaming, yelling or any other noises the man made during his stay.

No one got any sleep for the next two days. But Byleth concluded it was worth it for the information they had gotten. They removed the body a day later. Caspar almost defected from their group when he learned what Byleth did to the man, if not for Linhardt convincing him to stay, and Jeralt promising that Byleth would never do that to anyone else they captured.

The Empire was trying to capture the Demons of Ailell. An incredible bounty was put onto their heads by Emperor Edelgard, and the Dukedom were also mobilising forces, mainly the remnants of House Rowe, decimated as they were by the demons, to assist the Empire in capturing them. Jeralt and Seteth suggested taking advantage of the operation to sneak around their forces in the Valley, to link up with Felix’s father, who had sent a letter earlier promising to pledge his forces to aid them if the Prince truly was alive.

Dimitri insisted they head for Enbarr. He was shut down by Byleth, Seteth and Jeralt immediately, withdrew to glaring grumpily at the map as they spoke.

Instead, Byleth wanted a repeat of the defence of Garreg Mach. A two-way attack, trapping the Imperials and House Rowe between Rodrigue’s forces and their own.

“We don’t have enough forces for that.” Jeralt spoke up immediately. “Come on, kid. You know better than to send soldiers to their deaths. I taught you better than that.”

“The Demons are involved in this as well.” Seteth frowned down at the map of the Ailell, where Byleth had driven a pair of knives into two spots, marking their force and Rodrigue’s. “They’ve defeated every enemy force thrown at them so far, and they attack anyone who enters their territory. Making ourselves a target for them wouldn’t be ideal.”

“What if we use a small task force as bait for them?”  
“No.” Byleth relented at the twin denials from Jeralt and Seteth, and the plan was set. A week later, a small group departed from the Monastery to meet with Rodrigue, headed by Byleth, Dimitri, and Seteth. Jeralt complained about being left behind again but stayed put.

Felix was not looking forward to seeing his father again. With the Boar gone, he’d dedicated himself to fighting the Dukedom every step of the way, pulling out soldiers from the willing citizens of Fraldarius, all motivated by revenge for their Prince, anger at the Empire, and most infuriatingly, the chance to fight for honour and glory. They’d managed to keep the Dukedom from getting a foothold in the state, even when Galatea caved and surrendered in exchange for much needed supplies from the Imperials.

His father wasn’t blind. When the citizens of Fraldarius were angry at Galatea for surrendering, he calmed them, explained to them why they had surrendered. He’d personally offered Ingrid a room in Castle Fraldarius when she left Galatea to continue fighting the Dukedom.

He offered her Glenn’s old room. Tempers flared, and they’d fallen apart again. There were many other rooms he could’ve offered her. Felix would’ve given up his if he’d asked, gone to sleep with the servants in their shared quarters. But no. He’d given her the one room she wouldn’t, she shouldn’t have had to stay in.

Let the dead rest. Ingrid could see Glenn again when she passed on, and that was not going to be for a damn long time if he had his way. Why was he giving away Glenn’s old room to her? Did he truly care that little for him? His own son?

So yes, Felix was not looking forward to seeing his father again. He was frustrated and fed up with everything. The Boar was still muttering, still raving about revenge, Edelgard, its family, revenge, Dedue, Marianne and whatever else was bothering it. Byleth was doing nothing to help, even though Mercedes was cured now. She could use magic again, and Byleth was dedicating most of their time with helping her, despite her own insistence that she would be fine, and Manuela offering to reteach her how to cast. The damn heat in the valley wasn’t helping matters either. Annette and Mercedes had cast spells on Sylvain and Ingrid to help them cope with it, and the Boar had simply left his furs behind. Felix though? There wasn’t a strong enough cooling spell in all of Fódlan to make him want to come back through here again, especially in fur.

“We must be getting close.” Byleth raised their hand to make them stop, The Boar stopped as well, if only because of Sylvain and Ingrid putting their arms out in front of him. Annette and Mercedes stopped on his left, watching their surroundings carefully. “The demons have already attacked the Imperial forces.”

Felix craned his neck around the wyverns of Seteth and Byleth, straining to see what they were talking about. The glint of metal caught his eye.

More bodies. Imperial, from the looks of it. The group moved forwards cautiously, warily. The Boar must’ve sensed some danger they couldn’t, because even it had shut up with the mutterings, fell in line behind Byleth.

Felix inspected the bodies as they approached. Strange. Demonic beasts had claws, or beaks, or jaws. The bodies of the Edmund soldiers had been mangled and shredded back when they were trying to rescue Marianne, and prior fights against them had left many soldiers badly injured.

Yet these bodies bore no claw marks. No rented armour caused by a beak, or teeth. Slash wounds caused by a sword. Punctures caused by arrows, directly in the centre of the forehead. No demonic beast could wield a sword, could use a bow.

They were fighting humans here. The demons were humans.

He heard something clink near him, spun around to see Byleth’s sword whipping skyward, deflecting an arrow aimed for his head. He cursed and called upon a Thoron spell, drew Falchion. “Ambush!”

The rest of the group reacted accordingly, settled into combat positions. Annette was at his back instantly, Excalibur ready and Bolt Axe drawn. Both synched up almost immediately, not as one, but where they could both sense where the other was.

Something moved to his left, and Annette spun around, launched a spell at the wall near them. It burst, and something- no, someone- ran through the explosion, clashed swords with him and Falchion.

“Felix?” Despite the muck, blood, scarring from many a battle littering her face, her Brigidian accent gave her away instantly. “Is it you?”

“Petra.” He thought she was dead, and if she didn’t back up immediately, she would be dead judging from how Mercedes had her bow aimed at her. “Back off. The Professor is here.”  
  
“They are?” Petra tried to say something. Mercedes’ shout of pain cut her off, he could see an arrow protruding in her arm. Survival instinct took over, and Felix parried Petra’s sword away, twisted her arm against her back and held Falchion to her throat.

Whoever this archer was, they had to be following Petra’s orders. He held her upright, making sure that the archer could have a clear view of her when they came out. “Come out. I have your leader captive,” he commanded.

A mop of silver hair appeared over the crest of the hill in front of them, and Felix’s grip slackened as he recognised Ashe. Was he one of them too?

“Ashe!” Petra shook her head desperately, and Felix quickly realised why as he nocked an arrow and aimed it. If he fired, it’d go through her and hit him. “The Professor is here!” She shouted. “They’re led by the Professor!”

Ashe hesitated, if only for a moment. Byleth landed behind him with no noise at all, drove Ashe backwards to the ground with enough force to kick up a cloud of dust. Felix could see that they had their sword pointed at him but hadn’t hurt him. Yet.

He pushed Petra forwards as Annette ran over to Mercedes, pushed Petra up the hill towards where Ashe and Byleth were. Ashe’s voice got louder as they went, and Petra stopped struggling when she realised where they were going.

“…and Petra begged to be given a safe place to hide from the Imperials chasing her. Lord Gwendal agreed but she overheard him saying he was going to give her over to the Empire in exchange for more supplies from Cornelia. When she told me, I knew I couldn’t let them do that. It wasn’t right.” Felix managed to catch the tail end of the explanation as he and Petra reached where Ashe and Byleth was. “Petra!” he called out as they approached. “Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt?”  
  


“I am okay, Ashe. Felix was having-“she stopped for a moment, trying to remember which word to use- “Felix had great care when bringing me up here.”  
  
“Good, I’m glad. Hello Felix,” he said, waving awkwardly at him. “Sorry for almost shooting you, we’ve been hiding from the Imperials for a while now.”

  
“Why did you almost shoot? You would’ve hit Petra.”  
“I had Ashe promising, no, promise that if I was ever taken captive, he would kill me.” Felix frowned, glared at Byleth as they whistled in approval. “I did not want to be taken back to the Empire.”

“Edelgard sent Petra a letter, asking for Brigid’s support against the Kingdom. When she refused, and told her Brigid would stand against the Empire, she sent assassins after her.”

“So you two fled here and made a suicide pact?” Ashe nodded, and Felix looked away in disgust. Byleth pressed on. “How long ago did you leave, Petra?”  
  
“Um… I do not remember. It was after Prince Dimitri was being executed.”  
“Four years, then.” Ashe and Petra had been surviving in the Valley of Torment for four years? Flames. Felix let go of Petra. “You must’ve robbed and killed any soldiers that came through here to survive.”

At that, Ashe’s eyes sank low in shame, even as Petra took hold of his hand. “We didn’t want to but, we couldn’t find anything. And we couldn’t risk the Empire or the Dukedom finding out we were here. We just wanted to survive, so we did what we had to.”

“But now the Professor is back. You will be leading us to the Monastery?” Even Felix couldn’t miss the gleam of hope in Petra’s eyes. “We will be joining your army if so.”  
  
“Of course. If you two want to?”

“We will be glad to! Right, Ashe?”

“Uh… yeah, of course! But Professor, aren’t you worried about having us with you? The Dukedom and the Empire is looking for us after all.”  
“We have the Prince with us. And we’re going to meet with Duke Fraldarius. We’ll be fine.” Byleth pulled both Ashe and Petra into a hug with a rare smile on their face. “Welcome back to the class.”

“Thank you, Professor.” They returned the hug with equal warmth.

Ashe and Petra reunited with the rest of the group there, apologising to Mercedes for shooting her. Dimitri merely glanced at Ashe in response before trudging ahead, poking at any Imperial bodies in the vain hope of finding one that was still alive to kill.

“What happened to His Highness?” Ashe asked. “He wasn’t like this before the war, was he?”

“He was. Just it hid it better.” Felix walked on to catch up to Annette and Mercedes, and Ashe was left with many unanswered questions.

Fraldarius forces arrived not long after they discovered the remains of Gwendal. Petra recalled how he’d thanked Ashe before he died, but stopped and instead led him away towards the Professor when he’d quietly asked her to stop. Rodrigue pledged to aid the Professor and the boar with invading and defeating the Empire, presented him with Areadbhar.

The ride home was long. Felix did not blame Annette for falling asleep on his shoulder in the carriage, even if she did end up apologising when she woke up. He did not miss the quiet smile the Professor had as they observed Ashe and Petra, who’d both fallen asleep on each other.

He didn’t miss the Professor disappearing the day they returned to Garreg Mach, either.

…

Jeralt found Byleth in the cathedral that night.

His child was knelt in the centre of the room, hands clasped together in prayer, hair shining an eerie green that made him uncomfortable for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

“Why are you up so late, kid?” Jeralt frowned. “You’re not going to be much of a leader if you’re asleep in the war meetings.”

“Praying.”

“You picked that up from the Mercedes girl too?” She was good for the kid, in Jeralt’s opinion. Reminded him of Sitri, in a way. She too had held an unshakeable belief in the goddess, had always been happy to see him return from a mission. Kept them focussed on a goal, instead of lost in their thoughts. Anything that drew them out of their head was good. “Should’ve asked her to pray with you.”

“She was sleeping.” Byleth stood up but didn’t turn to face their father. “Remind me, who am I fighting? The Church or the Imperials?”

“The Imperials. Come on kid, you’re not old enough to be forgetting who you’re fighting for.”

“I know. But… it gets confusing. Edelgard was my enemy. Then she was my friend, now she’s my enemy again.” Byleth sighed and rubbed at their head. “I’m supposed to be dead in some city in Leicester.”

“You’re not. You’re here in the Monastery.”

“I know. Did I leave for Ordelia yet?”

“You haven’t.”

“And are you alive?”

“Yes, Byleth. I’m alive.” So many questions. If it were anyone but his child, he’d dismiss them as mad and send them away.

Tch. Everything was confusing now. Byleth had warned him that he was going to die seven years ago, practically dragged them all off to Morfis, Dagda, Brigid, to find a way to prevent it, but not telling him what he was going to die from.

Then they’d come back here, to the last place he wanted them to go. Walked the Monastery grounds like they’d lived there their entire lives. Danced around Lady Rhea and Seteth like they were a pair of stubborn hagglers, not the Archbishop and her assistant.

The stories they’d told them, knowing things they shouldn’t have. About Sitri. Where she really was, instead of lying under six feet of the best marble in all Fódlan. Of what Lady Rhea had used them for, used Sitri for.

Apparently, he’d not taken the news very well. He didn’t remember it at all.

But they’d been right. The girl, Monica, had tried to kill him. Byleth’s intervention saved his life, he knew that. But they’d returned from hunting her down completely different, and Jeralt wasn’t sure why.

“Good.” Right, kid was asking twenty questions again to remember what year they were in. “That means something worked out this time. The goddess is being quiet, which means I’m taking the right path.”

“What does the Goddess want?” And why did she have to pick his kid for this? He knew the answer to that, Byleth had told him why, but couldn’t the goddess have picked someone else to be their prophet person? If she was as omnipotent as Lady Rhea claimed, she could just show visions to that Marianne girl. Or Raphael.

“Peace. For those who don’t believe in her and those who do.” So that meant both the Imperials and their little rebellion, then, if he remembered how Byleth used to talk when discussing the future.

“What about you, kid?”

“I want the same.”

That didn’t sit right with Jeralt at all. “You’re going about it all wrong then. I know you want the war to end quickly for the sake of those brats, but is torturing commanders really the way to go?” They hadn’t needed to do anything in the end, Byleth had just thrown a dagger into the cell and the prisoner had offed themselves. Kid was really starting to worry him. “Byleth, the Prince needs help. You need help. I don’t know what you went through before, but you were never like this until you came back from the Sealed Forest.”

“I know. Dimitri must rescue himself from his abyss. I cannot save him unless he saves himself first.” Jeralt tried to splutter out an answer, yet Byleth continued. “I’ve told you before that I saw this war through twice before, Father. Once with Lady Rhea, once with Edelgard.”

“You’ve said. The students died with Rhea, didn’t they?”

“They did. A lot of people died. Good people. And Rhea told me about what she did. So I walked the war again, and sided against her.”

“And that didn’t work either.” Something about Fódlan burning, and everything being for nothing.

“No. Someone else wanted revenge. They destroyed everything Edelgard and I worked towards.” Whatever had happened, it had enraged the kid beyond belief. The older mercenaries had been disturbed by Byleth’s initial shift in personality, long before they had even arrived at the Monastery. After he had come to terms with the idea of his kid having control over time, Jeralt had started to understand why. Byleth was quiet, rarely showed emotion before. With no warning at all, they became vicious. Sadistic in combat. Overprotective of him, despite him having over a hundred years’ experience on them. Time travel included.

“But that will not happen this time.” Byleth nodded to themself. “I’m sure of it.”

“Then why keep going? You’re scaring me here, kid. Let Dimitri handle the rest of the war effort when he rescues himself from his abyss, or whatever it was. Why do you need to be involved at all?”

“Because he will kill Edelgard if I don’t. And I need her alive, to make up for my failure.” Byleth finally turned to face him, and the madness reflected within their eyes disturbed Jeralt greatly.

It reminded him too much of Lady Rhea, before she would order the execution of a traitor, or a blasphemous heretic.

“I am the Wandering Flame. The saviour of Fódlan. My arrogance made Fódlan burn, my blind loyalty saw the deaths of thousands of good people. This time, I will carry forward my mistakes. I will be the one to burn Fódlan, inside and out. Dimitri will make something new from the ashes of the old. The Goddess will steer me true, and I shall burn away the sickness that plagues everyone. The Slitherers. The Crests. The Relics.” Byleth looked down at the Sword of the Creator, still strapped to their waist. “Even the Nabateans, should they threaten the children. They all will no longer endanger Fódlan. Whatever world Dimitri decides to create, he will create from the ashes of the old world.”

“That fall must’ve knocked something in your head, kid. You weren’t claiming to be a saviour before the war.”

Byleth chuckled. “No. But inspiration comes from the strangest sources.” They stepped away from the light, and their eyes was the only indicator of where they had gone.

“And after that?”

“I’ll walk the world. Or stay with you. Or go with Mercedes. I haven’t decided yet.” They sighed, and before Jeralt could ask, Byleth pulled their father into a warm hug. “I love you, Father. I’m glad you’re here to hear me say that.”

“You didn’t say it much before.”

“Before, I didn’t understand. Now, I do, and I wished I could tell you when you were still around.”

Jeralt held his child in his arms again. He hoped they would stay there, he hoped they would stay there long enough to go back to how they were. Before they fell, before they became this… person, this being, who resembled Lady Rhea more than they resembled Sitri.

Byleth pulled away. “Good night, Father. Thank you for coming to find me.”

“Night, kid.” Jeralt faked a smile. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Byleth left, and he was alone. He looked through the hole in the ceiling, at the heavens above.

How much of this was Lady Rhea responsible for? The Goddess was kind, yet smites those who were disloyal against the Church with no remorse. Byleth had shown no regret, no remorse, even as that soldier begged them to let them go. Byleth was acting like the Goddess was supposed to act. Kind, yet merciless to their children.

They should’ve never come back. Jeralt shouldn’t have gone to save those noble brats all those years ago. Not when it cost him his only child. Not when it was taking Sitri’s last gift away from him.

Jeralt sighed, pulled the hip flask off and took a swig. Damn Lady Rhea, and damn the goddess too.

If it weren’t for them, Byleth never would have been tied up in all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To sum up for those who weren't comfortable with the topics I mentioned:
> 
> Byleth captures Randolph and learns that the Empire and Dukedom are seeking to capture the Demons of Ailell. The group decides to take advantage of this fighting to sneak around the conflict to link up with Rodrigue and get some much needed supplies and manpower.
> 
> When they arrive at the Valley of Torment, they find the Demons have already eliminated the Empire and Dukedom's forces. The group comes under attack from the Demons, but the situation swiftly resolves itself when they discover the Demons are actually Ashe and Petra. They are welcomed back to the group with open arms.
> 
> After the battle, Jeralt speaks with Byleth, noting that they have changed. Byleth reveals their plan: To become the saviour of Fódlan, burning all that threaten their children as Sothis once did, in order to make up for their failures in the previous timelines. Byleth finally tells their father that they love them, and Jeralt grows frustrated that he is losing Byleth to this crusade the kid is on.


	10. New Synchropartners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next few chapters are gonna be shorter. Apologies, it's how it divided up when I switched from it being a one-shot to a multi-chapter fic.

Ashe and Petra quickly settled back into living at the Monastery. Most of the army either didn’t notice that they shared a room now or didn’t want to mention it. Everyone was coping with the war differently so who were they to judge? Sylvain and Dorothea were the only ones who really bothered to figure out why they’d taken to sharing a room. Both theorised in their own ways about what could’ve happened in the four years they were in the Valley, and they were both shut down by an irritated Ingrid after one too many questions about if she had heard anything on her night patrols.

“No, I haven’t. If they are doing anything, they’re being quieter about it than Sylvain was with his girlfriends.” Dorothea had snorted into her tea. “Don’t say anything Sylvain. Even Marianne complained about you.”

Humbled by the reminder of how he once was, Sylvain eased off Ashe. Petra got Dorothea to back off without any help from Ingrid, and most of the Monastery’s discussion turned to their next operation.

They needed an easy way into the Empire. Most of the bridges capable of supporting an army their size had been destroyed by Dukedom and Imperial rebels, which meant that there was only one way for them to easily reach the Empire.

The Great Bridge of Myrddin, located deep within Alliance territory. It was now guarded by the combined forces of House Gloucester and the former Imperial garrison of Aegir. Ferdinand looked grim at the prospect of facing down his former people, and one of his dearest friends in Lorenz.

The former members of the Golden Deer were disheartened to learn that Lorenz was leading the forces there. He may have irritated many a woman in his time, frustrated them with his pompous behaviour and obsession with being the best noble in the Alliance, but he was their friend. They all knew that by siding with the Prince, by following the Professor’s lead, they could all end up fighting against their own people.

They didn’t expect that conflict to happen this soon.

“There’s no other way to move a force our size into Imperial territory without that bridge.” Seteth rubbed his face as he, Jeralt and Byleth poured over the maps again. “The only other way to get through is to split our forces up into smaller groups, but if any of those groups were caught by the Empire, they’d be easily defeated.

“If we go for the Great Bridge, we’ll risk starting a war with the Alliance.” Jeralt drew a trail across the map, showing which territories they’d have to march through to get to the Bridge. “We don’t know which of the Houses of the Alliance could be reporting to the Empire either. If we ask them for permission, they could let us walk into an ambush.”

“I could take a small group through. Like I did to rescue Marianne.” Byleth spoke for the first time that day, looking down at the area where the Bridge had been marked. “Or we could spread false information. Lure their forces towards a certain territory to buy us time to slip through.”  
  


“I could ask my dad and my brother to help us with that!” All eyes turned towards Hilda. “If they mention that they spotted the Prince and you moving towards Fódlan’s Throat and ask for aid, that could lure some of the Gloucester forces away.”

“With an army the size of ours, it wouldn’t last long enough. We’d need more of a distraction.”  
“Why not ask Claude for help? You did get that letter from him the other day, right Professor?”  
  
Byleth glared at Raphael, as everyone turned to look at them. Perhaps it hadn’t been for the best that they had been keeping it a secret that they had spoken with the leader of the Alliance. “Yes, I did. It was for a private matter, but-“  
  


“Kid.” Jeralt’s murderous glare made the Professor take a step back in alarm. “Get the Alliance brat to let us through.”  
  
“…yes, sir.”

Byleth left a day later. Jeralt’s mood strangely didn’t improve with the Professor’s absence, and most of the former students took to avoiding him. Even Leonie did, instead focussing on training for the coming battle. Felix was content to focus on his training with Annette, let whatever problem was happening between the Professor and Captain Jeralt sort itself out.

Then Ashe and Petra interrupted one of his sparring matches with Annette.

“Hi Felix, hi Annette.” Both turned to look at Ashe, wiping sweat from their heads as Ashe approached them. “Um… I wanted to ask you two something, if that’s okay?”  
  
“What?”  
“Yes, that’s fine.” Both spoke together, both glared at the other.

“Great. Well, Petra and I found this book in the Professor’s room back before we ran into the Valley a few years ago.” Ashe held up a copy of Synkroniseret Kamp: A Guide, the one the Professor had complained had been stolen by bandits when they had first returned to the Monastery. “We managed to get the techniques down, but we haven’t been able to figure out how to synchronise? I remembered the Professor was teaching you two something along with Mercedes, His Highness and Marianne. If it wasn’t this-“

“It was.” Felix spoke if only to cut off Ashe’s babbling. “You need to find common ground to attune your magical wavelengths.”  
“You also need to figure out what you and Petra are fighting for to synchronise properly.”  
“I was just getting to that.” Felix folded his arms and turned away. “I took those classes too, Annette. I know how this works.”  
“I know, Felix, I was just trying to-.” Annette sighed in frustration. “Why are you starting an argument about this?”  
“I’m not starting an argument here. You are.”

“I’m not starting an argument!”  
“You are.”  
“I’m not.”

“You are.“  
“I am not meaning to interrupt your… lovers quarrel?” Petra frowned, trying to decide if that was the right word to use. “But are you able to teaching us?”

“Lovers quarrel?” Felix scowled at her, and Annette quickly hid her embarrassment behind her hands. “We’re not lovers.”  
“I did not say that?” She looked to Ashe for help, who sheepishly shrugged as Felix glowered at the two of them. “But yes. You two are bickering like lovers. It was in the books Ashe showed me.”  
  


“So anyway,” Ashe cut in before Felix could turn them down, “can you teach us how to synchronise? It could really help us in battle.”  
  
“Of course we will! Right, Felix?”

Felix made sure not to look at the pleading expression on her face as he answered. “Sure. No one else can teach you anyway.”  
  
“Thank you, Felix.” Ashe smiled so brightly and gratefully at them that Felix had to turn away in embarrassment. “Thank you, Annette. I hope we can learn a lot from you both.”

Teaching Petra and Ashe how to sync up fell easily into their routines, and Annette quickly found that she had a knack for teaching Ashe. He picked up things so quickly, and so easily too! What took them months to figure out took him a week and a half.

Felix, however, struggled. Ashe had done his best to teach Petra how to speak Fódlanese, but she still struggled here and there. For Felix, who was used to working with Annette or Sylvain, it was frustrating having to go over the same things again and again. He directed that frustration into their training.

“Come on, Petra. You need to feel for it. It won’t just land in your hands.”  
“I know, Felix.” Her own frustration was evident in her tone as she stood with her back against Ashe’s. Their technique was different to his and Annette’s, instead focussing on Ashe’s bow skills to compliment Petra’s sword.

Turned out the Professor had lied in those classes. Not only did it not require a weapon user and a magic user, you only needed a slight amount of magic training, enough to sense someone else’s magical potential. With that alone, any two people could perform Synkroniseret Kamp, they didn’t need an advanced level of magic control like Byleth had told them.

Felix could tell how much this revelation had distressed Annette. She’d felt so bad for the Boar, watching it fail again and again at harnessing magic to synchronise with Marianne, who in turn had blamed herself for its failures.

Still, one could thing had come out of those lies. Even now, with the Boar on show for her to see, Marianne was still trying to help it, working with Ingrid and Gustave to make sure it ate, to make sure it cleaned itself. While it upset Annette greatly to learn that the Professor had lied to their students, Felix was privately glad someone was trying to help the Boar.

“Why couldn’t they just tell us that?” Annette asked over dinner that night. His father’s forces had brought some much-needed supplies with them, along with his family’s Relics, which he’d passed to Felix. “If we just needed to be able to sense another person, then why did they tell us to learn all that we did?”  
“They wanted to challenge us.”  
“That’s not a challenge, Felix.” Annette frowned down at her meal. “What the Professor did was dangerous. That level of magic can kill someone if not used carefully. The first thing we’re taught at the Royal School of Sorcery is never to push ourselves too far while using magic.”  
“Then how do you expect to improve?”  
“Through careful practice. You get better over time, learn what magic you’re comfortable casting. It’s why I told you not to learn more than one kind of element, Felix. If you pushed yourself too far at once, you could die.”  
“Really.” Felix raised an eyebrow at her. “So that explains why you got so angry when I was trying to practice dark magic.”  
“Yes, Felix, that was why I was angry.“ Annette glared at him. “You could've died from that Miasma spell!”

“Then I'll stick to what I know. I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.”  
“Good.” Annette started eating her way through her meal much faster than before, and the silence turned awkward after a while.

Byleth returned a few days later, with news from the Alliance. Claude had agreed to allow their forces passage to the Great Bridge of Myrddin but had warned that Gloucester would know they were coming. He’d convinced the rest of the Alliance to stay out of it, pointing out that by cutting off Imperial support to House Gloucester, they could unify and strength the Alliance.

No one missed how Byleth walked right past Jeralt and Seteth without greeting them.

Something was going on with their commanders, and it was making many of their group nervous. Jeralt had somehow grown more irritable with his child’s return, and Seteth was stuck playing mediator between the two, which was slowly waring him down too. Neither Mercedes, Alois nor Flayn could offer answers as to what the issue between the three was. Jeralt had called it a family issue. Seteth had told Flayn not to worry. All Byleth would say was that it would be resolved before the war ended, which did not make any of them feel better.

They marched for Myrddin a few days later.

Gloucester and Aegir forces met them by the bridge, used their defensive positions to stall their forces. Even the wyvern and pegasus forces led by Seteth couldn’t break through the defences, not without losing too many soldiers. Far in the distance, a Demonic Beast lurked, waiting for them to break through.

Neither side could break though the other. Much to Dimitri’s frustration, the battle became one of attrition, not a swift or brutal slaughter of all those in the way of him reaching Enbarr. Byleth wasn’t surprised, which made Jeralt and Seteth surprised. They couldn’t have been expecting this, could they?

Soldiers would occasionally clash at the front of the bridge, but the defensive positioning of Gloucester and Aegir held strong. Rather than attempt a full-blown attack, Byleth commanded them to switch to probing attacks, attempting to find a weakness in their defences, something they could exploit to break the current stalemate. As they were not needed for the time being, and Marianne was needed to heal any injured soldiers, Annette and a reluctant Felix turned their attention to coaching Ashe and Petra through the Synkroniseret Kamp.

Felix was annoyed. The longer they were stuck here, the more time Aegir had to call for reinforcements. Ingrid and her pegasus forces had managed to put down every messenger that tried to make a run for it, but it was only a matter of time. They needed to break through now, end this conflict before one of the messengers escaped into the Empire. What was the Professor waiting for?

Two days passed before something changed. That something was Dedue, returning from the dead with an army of Duscurians to rip apart the Demonic Beast, to smash a hole through the enemy defences, to kick the battle off in earnest. Wyverns and pegasi swooped around, spearing enemy troops and evading enemy archers and bowmen as though their lives depended on it. Which it did, really. Jeralt and Leonie led knights on horseback through the hole Dedue had punched for them and swarmed the bridge, cutting down one of the representatives of House Gloucester in the process, a man called Acheron, and the commander of the Aegir forces, a lady called Ladislava. Ferdinand showed her no mercy as he reclaimed his forces back from her.

That left Lorenz as the last man standing, and even with the whole of their army approaching him, he stood tall, stood proud. He was the heir to House Gloucester, one of the strongest houses in the Alliance! He would not surrender so pitifully after the eradication of his forces!

Byleth kicked him off his horse and tied him up with some bowstring. He quickly surrendered after that, and the Great Bridge of Myrddin was brought under Alliance/Kingdom control. But that was not important.

What was important was that Dedue had returned. They’d all thought he was dead, that he had died saving Dimitri from being executed. Rather, he himself had almost died, if not for a group of Duscurians they had saved five years ago rescuing him from his own execution. Dedue and his group pledged themselves to Dimitri’s army, and it seemed that all would be well. Dedue was alive, the class from five years ago were fully reunited, and the Alliance was back whole again.


	11. Preparations for Gronder FIeld

“I’ve given the battle plans to Jeralt and Seteth. Speak with them about your positions in the upcoming battle and keep going over them until you know them better than your own names.”

That was the only instruction Byleth gave them before shutting themselves in Lady Rhea’s bedchambers. Cyril ran himself ragged ferrying updated battle plans between Jeralt, Seteth and Byleth over the next few days, and the rest of the army was understandably nervous.

The next battle looked like it would be at Gronder Field. They remembered the first battle, five years ago. The house leaders had complimented each other on their houses’ efforts in the battle, and they’d all had a party to celebrate afterwards.

Everything should have been fine, in theory. They were friendly with the Alliance, who would also be present at the battle, and with their entire class reunited, they didn’t need to worry about running into anyone they knew on the battlefield. Byleth had told them that the only people they knew that were left on the enemy side from their year was Edelgard and Hubert. Claude was with the Alliance, and Jeritza hadn’t turned up since the war started. Everyone else was at the Monastery with them.

Byleth’s behaviour made them all worry. The Professor was immovable, stoic, impossible to surprise. Yet they’d shut themselves away, feverishly sending out battle plan after battle plan with Cyril. Ingrid got sent to the infirmary when she tried to kick the doors down and took a Thunder in retaliation, but was let out after a day due to the immediate healing the Professor gave her when they realised who she was.

The rest of them wisely chose to avoid confronting them after that.

Annette and Mercedes had taken to baking to help themselves get over the nerves they felt for the coming battle. No explosions were to be had this time, mainly because Felix remembered what happened five years ago and chose to stay in the kitchens in case Sylvain came along again. Or so he had said.

Annette wasn’t sure why, he hated sweet things, despite Lysithea’s insistence that he try the things. He always refused to sample anything she and Mercedes made, even though Mercedes was the best baker in the Monastery in her opinion, with only Dedue or Yuri coming close. Most infuriatingly of all, he refused to tell her why he still stayed around. Sylvain and Ingrid hadn’t approached them once in the time since they’d started baking again, so it couldn’t be for that.

“Byleth doesn’t want you causing any more explosions,” he had said once, and by the goddess she’d wanted to shout at him, but the flour sack was still open and Mercie had forgotten to close the stove, so that had to be dealt with. She caused one explosion. One! That was five years ago, and that was because of him and his friends arguing when she and Mercie were trying to cook!

How dare he use that as an excuse? It wasn’t like she was complaining about him being there, she just wanted to know why! Ugh, stupid Felix.

The troops appreciated the sweets they made for them. She’d left a batch of cookies she made outside Felix’s room in case he for whatever reason wanted to eat them, she wasn’t even sure why she had done it when he hadn’t eaten the ones left out as thanks five years ago, but she had done it anyway. If anything, Marianne might take them or something. Why did she care? Why was she trying? Why-

Why was she so frustrated over sweets? It had to be because of the nerves, right? Right.

Maybe she should go study those books Mercedes had again. It might distract her from everything.

…

Felix didn’t have a sweet tooth. At all. Sweets were the one thing he could never eat.

The cookies were well made, but he couldn’t stand how sweet they were. He’d tried to force himself to eat them, but he couldn’t finish it. He tried to pass them onto Ingrid. She’d refused to take them. So had Sylvain. Didn’t matter that they knew he didn’t like them, they insisted he should eat them.

So he did. He finished off the whole plate, gagging all the way and then tipped the crumbs into Sylvain’s bed when he’d made a joke about how happy Annette would be.

She’d smiled a lot when she saw him walk into the kitchens with the empty plate, less so when he repeated that he didn’t like sweet things, but it came back brighter when he gave his compliments to whoever made them. Then she went back to looking at her books. He left her be, went to train.

His family’s relic was much more difficult to use than Falchion. Falchion fitted his combat style better, but the Moralta would help him recover from his wounds better. Byleth had told it him would lift the burden on their healers if he could heal himself without their help. Learning to wield the Moralta would suit him better than weighing himself down with medicine, and Annette knew how to heal on the off chance he needed it. His father refused to take the damn thing back, stating that he’d be fine with the Aegis and that he needed the Moralta more.

So here he was. Practicing on dummies, so he could learn how to execute Astra with it. From there, Magiastra would be easy to master with it. The weight was different to Falchion, and it was much more fragile. It didn’t repair itself like Falchion did, which meant he had to be much more careful with it in combat.

He’d solved the problem with Annette’s songs. They’d nestled themselves into his head, each and every one of them, and while it was irritating to keep hearing them in his sleep and not hearing them from Annette, he’d learned to incorporate them into his training. Crumbs and Yums was good for practicing the simpler swings and movements. The Box Song was fast, energetic, good for practicing quicker parries and attacks. Stuff like that.

He was running out of sparring partners though. Ingrid had started to train with Raphael and Dedue more often now, which meant she rarely had time to train with him. Sylvain was usually occupied with discussing… something with Hanneman and Hapi unless Felix dragged him to the training hall. Byleth was still shut in Lady Rhea’s bedchambers. Only Petra, Ashe and Annette had become his consistent partners since they’d returned, but two of them didn’t really offer much of a challenge. Petra kept him on his toes in a spar with her dirty tactics and the speed behind her attacks making hitting her difficult outside of using Astra, and Magiastra didn’t work since she didn’t wear anything metal. Ashe was reluctant to fight up close unless he was fighting with Petra, which meant he was too easy to counter. Annette had become predictable in a melee, too reliant on her swings, too used to switching to magic or her dagger should someone get inside her axe.

He needed more people to fight. Once he’d mastered the Moralta, he’d be back to rehearsing the same old things again. Reminding himself of his and Annette’s positions on the battlefield. Teaching Ashe and Petra how to fight together as one.

He still didn’t feel strong enough. Something was missing, even with the training he had done, the training he had done with Annette. He had a legendary relic and his family’s relic in his hands, he had years of training under his belt, trying desperately to catch up to Glenn.

Yet he still felt like something was missing.

…

A gentle knock at the door drew Byleth out of their trance. Probably Cyril coming to see if he needed to take anymore battle plans down. “Come in.”  
  
The door creaked open, but rather than the light, quick footsteps of Cyril coming in, they were heavy, unsteady footfalls, accompanied by the smell of alcohol. Jeralt.

“Byleth.” They looked at Jeralt. Concern was written all over their father’s face again, even as he swayed on his feet. He’d been drinking again. “’s wrong, kid?”  
  
“There is nothing wrong, Father.”  
  
“You only call me Father when you’re pretending to be the Wandering Flame.” Jeralt sat down with a heavy thud on Rhea’s bed. “Talk to me, Byleth. What’s wrong?”

“I have already explained. I want to make sure our next battle goes well.”

“By locking yourself in here. Kid, people are worried about you.”  
“I am perfectly fine. Cyril would have told someone if I wasn’t.”  
“You nearly killed that Galatea girl.”  
“Ingrid.” She’d been fine, the spell they had cast wasn’t even that strong anyway-

Flames. Byleth was doing it again. It might not have been that strong, but that didn’t mean they could just disregard the fact they’d attacked Ingrid for kicking down their door. The right thing to do was Divine Pulse-

No. Byleth had promised Sothis that they wouldn’t abuse her power for trivial things such as that. They’d have to live with this one. Apologise to Ingrid later, explain what had been going on and why they’d reacted the way they did.

“I did not intend to hurt her. She scared me.” Jeralt chuckled behind them, and Byleth finally turned around, if only to glare at him. “She shouldn’t be kicking down doors to begin with, let alone that of a teacher.”

“But you’re not their teacher anymore, Byleth.” Jeralt frowned. “Why use Lady Rhea’s bedchambers? Why not the Goddess Tower?”  
“I wanted to sleep somewhere comfy.” Jeralt snorted and started coughing and spewing ale all over the bedsheets of Lady Rhea’s bed. Byleth allowed themselves a small smile at the sight. “The Goddess Tower doesn’t have any beds.”

“That’s not what I meant, but sure.” Jeralt sighed, wiped the remains of the spilt ale from the bed. “Goddess, what have we gotten ourselves into, kid?”

“Nothing we can’t handle.”

“You sure seem confident about it.”

No. Byleth wasn’t confident. That was why they were hiding in here, feverishly pouring over battle plan after battle plan to make sure they got through it without any of the students dying. They tuned out Jeralt’s drunken mutterings, turned their attention back to the map of Gronder Field they had drawn up.

Gronder Field… it was like watching an out of control carriage barrelling towards them. Claude would be there. Edelgard would be there. This time, Byleth would be there, standing beside Dimitri, who still hadn’t resurfaced, who still wanted Edelgard’s head, not caring for the actual people behind Duscur. Byleth had a chance to make sure this didn’t end in another massacre, another bloodbath, where the students – no, their children- died in front of their eyes again. Fighting for a Church that did not care for them. A way to finally stop reliving one of the worst days of their lives.

“I have faith in our forces, Father.”

“Then make sure you tell them that.”

“I will.”

Something had to happen at Gronder Field. Byleth couldn’t see a way everything could work out if there wasn’t something done there. The Alliance and Kingdom would be working together to take down the Empire there. If Dimitri was kept pointed away from the Alliance, no problems could arise between them. With their forces working together, the Empire could be cornered. Take Hubert out of the picture, and Edelgard would be alone.

And in every outcome, Dimitri would butcher her. Would continue his rampage through the Empire.

Flames.

Forgiveness could come later. Byleth had to plan for the coming battle. If they rewound time again, they wouldn’t be in any condition to plan tomorrow. Which would damn them all. They couldn’t leave this to fate, or to chance. They needed to plan out every single action, every move the army would make. Account for counterplans, counterattacks, someone tripping or falling, Dimitri doing something unpredictable. Anything and everything.

Byleth couldn’t see a way the students would all survive if they didn’t.


	12. Sacrifice at Gronder Field

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to thank [Anvil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextTrickAnvils) for the amazing art she created for this chapter. You will see it towards the end!

The day had arrived for them all.

The Empire struck first, a downpour of fire that set parts of the ground alight, mixed in smoke to the already thick mist covering the ground. In the distance, Byleth could see Claude with the Alliance. Edelgard and Hubert, standing across the field from them with their Empire. Both glared defiantly at them, ready to fight.

Claude and Byleth had fed them false information. It had been too easy for Byleth to turn Hubert’s spies against him, a mere few hours of doing to them what they had done to Caspar’s uncle made them turn. As it was, the Empire believed the Kingdom and Alliance forces to be at odds, to be ready to fight each other at a moment’s notice. They weren’t aware of the unified front that would be about to crash into them. Hubert might have some inkling, but not enough. The Empire’s forces were positioned to run through the Alliance first, thinking that the Kingdom would join them in destroying the weaker foe.

So long as Dimitri was kept away from the Alliance, they would be made wrong. A single bowman stood on a ballista platform, where Bernadetta would have stood. Instead, she was next to Yuri and Mercedes, nervous to be facing down Edelgard and Hubert, but determined to fight.

Byleth had been right. The only people they recognised were Claude, Edelgard and Hubert. The Death Knight was still nowhere to be seen, to Mercedes’ disappointment.

Byleth stood atop a hill, occasionally tilting their head to avoid an arrow shot at them. Up here, they could see everything. Where Claude would have been crushed beneath his wyvern, trying to save Lysithea from Dedue. Where Bernadetta would have been burned alive, atop the ballista in the centre, crying out for them. They could see where the mass grave would have been dug.

That wouldn’t happen this time. Their children would survive this battle, no matter the personal cost.

Byleth’s voice echoed into the battlefield. If they felt any fear, they hid it well.

“This battle shall be the turning point in this war. This battle shall be what decides who wins, and who loses! The goddess herself has claimed as such!”

It was strange of them to address everyone there. Annette could hear Felix cursing the Professor out for giving away their position. But they continued.

“For five years, this war has raged. By my hand, it will be decided here!”

Dimitri was the first to command them to attack. A cold order, to kill every last one of their enemies. Claude and Edelgard ordered their forces forwards, and the battle commenced.

The Kingdom’s forces split off. Dimitri, accompanied by his childhood friends, the people some part of him cared for, moved for the middle bridge, moved to draw the Imperial forces forwards. Felix and Annette pushed forwards, weapons and magic ready. A group of fortress knights approached, and they synched up flawlessly, drawing upon each other as Annette blew the knights off balance with a Cutting Gale, opening them up for a deadly Astra from Felix. More soldiers approached, and they set to work, no words needing to be shared between them. Wind and blade, twin lightning. Nothing could stand against them here.

In the distance, Ashe and Petra had split off with Hapi and Lysithea. They were moving forwards, cutting off the approaching calvary with pinpoint arrow shots, contrary to the Professor’s instruction that the Synkroniseret Kamp required a swordsman and a mage. Any that got too close, a Dark Spikes T would bring down. Four years of fighting together in the Valley of Torment granted Ashe and Petra the skill to wage war on their own, and with the aid of two powerful mages, they forced the incoming forces to fall back, pushed them off the third bridge and set off in pursuit.

The distraction had worked, and though Byleth couldn’t see them, they could imagine the surprise on Edelgard’s face when they and Claude didn’t start trying to kill each other, but rather started working together, pushing their forces forwards towards the side of the ballista, where the Imperial forces were now scrambling to prepare for them.

The ballista did its job of keeping the aerial forces away, keeping Seteth and Cyril and Ingrid from approaching. But that bowman was one person, standing against two armies that saw them as a major threat to them pushing forwards. The fortress knights gave their lives trying to defend him, the bowman fought as valiantly as he could. Felix and Annette were the first to reach him. For his valiant efforts as bait, they gave him a swift and clean death through cutting his head clean off. A kinder fate than that which Bernadetta had suffered.

The ballista blew into flames, flames that covered the entire hilltop, and phase one was complete.

Felix and Annette backed up, watched the flames ignite around them, Annette’s wind magic keeping the fire at bay from consuming them with the rest of the hill. They didn’t focus on the fire. Or on the battle surrounding them. They drew inwards, focussed on themselves, on each other.

They saw one another, standing in a blank space. No fire, no war. Just each other. And in that space, they finally understood. They understood why Byleth had requested they learn the Synkroniseret Kamp. Why they had been asked to fight alongside each other.

Only through understanding one another could they achieve peace. There, with only each other in that nothingness, they understood that at long last. Their rationale was laid bare. Annette wanted to become useful, so she could never be abandoned again. Felix wanted to become powerful, so he could never lose anyone else again. They understood why the other fought.

Byleth watched atop Boltis as Annette and Felix moved as one again, Annette launching herself and him through the air with a gust of wind magic, rolling as they landed and dusting the embers from Edelgard’s trap off without a word exchanged. A paladin rushed towards the front of Felix, charging right for him, if not for Annette launching a Cutting Gale that killed both horse and knight without even looking up from dusting off her dress.

The fourth form of Synkroniseret Kamp, where the two become one on the battlefield. They can see, hear, and feel anything and everything the other person can hear. They’d done it. Felix and Annette had finally achieved the last form of Synkroniseret Kamp!

Byleth allowed the feeling of pride to swell in their chest, but for only a moment. They landed near Mercedes, sent Boltis off in the direction the camp with a pat on the head. Phase two was currently in motion, and they still needed to press the offensive against the Empire, not allow them time to recover, time to adjust to the fact they had tricked Edelgard.

The unified forces of the Alliance and the Kingdom moved forwards, pushing back the Empire’s quickly collapsing front line as they were routed, as Edelgard and Hubert’s battle plan fell apart, as their back up plans fell apart. Their forces were getting destroyed, the Kingdom and the Alliance had barely taken any losses since the fire trap went off. The Empire’s forces here were a total loss, but they could still escape. Hubert could still warp them out of here.

An arrow plunged itself into Hubert’s shoulder. He wrenched it out, inspected it.

He frowned. Looked up at the archer who fired it. Mercedes. His frown only grew deeper.

“Is something wrong, Hubert?”  
“No. My apologies, Lady Edelgard.” Hubert stowed away the arrow. “But we may want to consider other escape routes.”  
“There isn’t any, Hubert.”  
“…Very well.” To his credit, Hubert tried to warp himself and Edelgard away. He truly did. But the Agarthan poison, the very one Mercedes had been infected with all those years ago, had already taken root in his body, in his blood.

Hubert collapsed, and Edelgard was alone. She could see Dimitri in the marching forwards, Areadbhar in hand. Claude and Byleth not too far behind him. Her forces had fallen, her only remaining friend had collapsed, poisoned by those she had formed an alliance with to for the greater good.

She prepared herself for the end.

“Captain Jeralt!”

Dimitri’s attention was drawn away from her. She looked up from Hubert, saw the arrow sticking out from the shoulder of Jeralt, who was looking at it in surprise. She wasn’t sure what to expect.

She certainly wasn’t expecting Byleth to rush towards the Alliance forces and start butchering their way through their troops, trying to find the one who had shot Marianne. Kingdom and Alliance soldiers alike started yelling in confusion, and the Kingdom dove in after their Professor, trying desperately to stop their slaughter of the Alliance forces. She saw some Alliance forces running away, Byleth chasing after them while Jeralt and Leonie tried to catch them, stop them from routing their own allies.

Had Claude ordered them to attack Jeralt?

Her question was answered as two masked mages warped next to her, one picking up Hubert from the ground.

Ah. Of course not.

Dimitri turned back in time to watch Edelgard be warped away. For a moment, he froze.

He couldn’t believe it. She had been right there, right there in his grasp, he could’ve killed her there and then! Then his mother and father, and Glenn would be at peace!

He yelled in frustration, rushed into the forest behind where she had been stood. They couldn’t have gotten far; warp could only make you travel over a certain distance. Rodrigue rushed in after him, Felix and Annette far behind.

Felix sensed, rather than saw, that something was wrong. He sheathed the Moralta, draw Falchion. Prepped himself to Magiastra over to whatever the threat was.

A girl. One they had rescued when they had liberated Myrddin. She had her dagger buried in the Boar’s side, pulled it out and prepared to kill it-

His father pushed the Boar. He pushed the Boar out of the way. Felix watched the look of surprise on the girl’s face as she stabbed his father, and then he saw nothing at all.

Annette watched in horror as Felix launched himself into the girl, his Magiastra making him move at such speeds that he sliced right through her, killed her instantly, and then flew further into the forest.

That was the danger of Magiastra. It was what she had warned him about when he asked her for help with improving his magic control. If you lost control, there was no telling where you could end up. Rodrigue collapsed. Annette ran over to him.

“I will be fine!” he insisted. “You must find Felix. Please, Annette!”

Despite the training she had been giving screaming at her to stay with Rodrigue, to try and heal him, she obeyed his request. She knew that Dimitri couldn’t heal him, she knew that healers couldn’t heal themselves. Leaving him there was effectively leaving him to die.

She knew Rodrigue knew that too.

“Go!”

So she did. She wiped away her tears as she ran, trying desperately to reconnect to Felix as she went. Who knew how far into this forest he could have gone? Magiastra required far more control than Astra, Felix could be halfway to Enbarr because of this!

Something glinted in the trees ahead, something golden. She recognised it. The Falchion. If it was here, then Felix couldn’t be far.

She found him sprawled out in front of a tree. She quickly pulled him away from the tree, knelt down and pulled him onto her lap. From how pained Felix looked, he must’ve crashed right into it. She thought she could see blood leaking out from under his hand, lifted up his hand to check the wound under it. A gash, not too deep. Could have been from catching himself on a tree while flying along. Looked pretty bad, she’d need to pour healing magic into it to fix it. If she did it quickly, she could go back, she could save Rodrigue! Muscle memory guided her through the check up on him, to make sure he wasn’t hiding any other wounds from-

His heart was beating all wrong.

No. No no nonono his heart wasn’t working right. This was bad, this was really bad! She’d already gotten Cichol killed. She thought she had gotten the Professor killed. Rodrigue was going to die, now Felix was going to die too, this was really bad. Come on, Annie. Think, think!

One of the problems with using thunder in Magiastra was that if you electroboosted without quickly hitting something you could ground yourself with, the electricity you conjured could run through you instead. If it did, it could mess up the caster’s heart. They were supposed to wear shockproof mittens but of course _Felix_ didn’t wear them because it made using a sword difficult!

Annette quickly removed Felix’s jacket and gloves, placed one hand on his cheek and held one of his hands with her other. If she ran white magic through Felix’s body, it could simulate a normal heartbeat and keep the rest of his body alive while she tried to restart his heart, but there was no telling how long she would need to do it.

Alright, Annette, you can do this. One. Two. Three!  
  


Annette ran white magic through her hand to Felix’s, holding her breath nervously as she felt it move around his body, trying to get everything else to work normally despite his heart not beating right.

She held her breath still as nothing happened. Tears started to leak as she feared the worse, that she was too late, that Felix would die too.

Then, almost as if to spite her fears, Felix started breathing. Annette let go of the breath she was holding, mentally thanking the Goddess. Now she needed to restart his heart. If she ran a jolt of electricity through to his heart, it could get it to work normally, but there was no telling when she’d need to do it. Only the Goddess knew, and only the Goddess would tell Her most devout followers.

She prepared a light magic spell. Counted the beats in her head, compared against what they should be normal-now!

It didn’t work. She counted the beats again, compared against what they should be normally. Prepared another jolt of electric-now!

“Come on, Felix,” she begged as she failed again. “Come back. I can’t lose you too.”

Count the beats again, compared against what they should be normally. Prepared another jolt of electricity.

Now!


	13. Grief of a Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Onwards past Gronder Field. I wonder what happens next?

It was as though the sky itself were grieving. Rain fell heavily upon Garreg Mach as the weary rested, the dead were buried. Victory was theirs; the Empire had been driven back.

But Edelgard had escaped. Rodrigue had died, his ghost now haunted him too. Felix had barely survived. The Professor had vanished again. Glenn whispered in his ear, demanding he go to Enbarr. Only with Edelgard's death could he rest. Could everyone be at peace.

So, Dimitri walked down the stairs to the stables. The fastest way there would be to take a horse, and at least some of them had to still be away at this time.

One was. In fact, its head was sticking out of its stable, almost as though it was raring to go, too. It was a sign that the Goddess agreed with him. Agreed that this was the path he had to take.

Dimitri unlocked the gate, took the horse’s lead rope and tried to bring it out. It didn’t move.

He pulled harder on the rope, yet still the horse stayed still. Accursed mule, why was it fighting him so? This was fate! It would take him to Enbarr, where he could appease the dead at long last!

The lead rope of the horse, old and frayed as it was, wasn’t as stubborn as Dimitri, or the horse it belonged to. It snapped, sent him stumbling backwards. Left him flat on his back, staring up at the sky. If only for a moment. He growled in frustration and pushed himself upright, glared at the horse.

It glared back and whinnied defiantly.

“What’s wrong, Dorte?”

Of any horse he had to pick, it had to be Dorte. Surely the goddess had to be laughing at him now, having been defeated by Marianne’s horse. He pushed himself back to his feet, turned to look at Marianne, who was quickly walking over to it-him.

“Your Highness?” Marianne looked between Dorte and Dimitri, both staring each other down. “What are you doing?”

“It doesn’t concern you, Marianne.” Her expression changed, from one of confusion to one of concern, and he knew he had to go, now. “Get out of the way.” He stepped past her, reached out to take the reins of Dorte.

“Stupid horse!” Dimitri yanked his hand back, shaking it out and checking it over. The damned horse had bit him! “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. Dorte… he can be stubborn.” Dorte let out an unimpressed snort, whinnying gently as Marianne gave him a Look. “Where were you going?”

Dimitri didn’t answer.

“Dimitri?”

“I told you. It doesn’t concern you. Get Dorte to come along with me.”

“He doesn’t want to.”

“Then make him.”

“I can’t. If Dorte doesn’t want to go, he won’t go. He’ll just throw you off.”

“Then I’ll walk.”

“Dimitri.” Marianne ran in front of him. “I can’t let you go if you won’t tell someone where you’re going.”

“Enbarr.” There. He’d answered her. Now he could go.

“Why?”

“It doesn’t concern you why. now let me go.”

“Then let me come with you. To make sure you come back safely.”

“No. I will be fine.”

“Then who will you go with? I can’t let you go on your own.”

“Yes you can, now let me go!”

Dimitri’s voice echoed around the courtyard, spooked the horses in their stables and made them all cry out. Marianne didn’t move, despite the noise all around her. Despite Dimitri staring a hole through her, she stood unfazed.

“Is this because of your family?”

He’d told her about that, hadn’t he? One of the biggest mistakes he made was telling her about his family. Now she was going to use it to stop him from leaving.

“Yes. Now let me go.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry, Your Highness. But I can’t let you go.”

“Why? You of all people should know why I’m doing this.”

“I do. And I understand. But I can’t let you go, Dimitri.”

“How can you understand? Being bad luck isn’t the same as dying with regrets.” Hurt flickered across her face for a moment, before being replaced by realisation. Good. Now she could let him go.

“No. It isn’t. But I can understand why you want to appease your family.” She moved out of his way, and Glenn hissed at him to go, to run for the gates, to leave for Enbarr. “Will you hear me out?”

No. He should leave. He should leave for Enbarr. He can hear her story when he returns, when the ghosts of the dead have been appeased.

Rodrigue whispered in his ear. Told him to stay, to listen to her. Glenn got angry. Patricia and Lambert stayed silent.

“Very well.”

“Thank you.” Marianne patted Dorte’s nose as she laid back against a wall, allowing him to nuzzle her cheek before she spoke.

“You know about my Crest. I am sure you heard of the rumours regarding what happens to people who have the Crest of Maurice before you and everyone helped me to defeat Maurice.” Her hand went to her hip, where Blutgang would rest during a battle. “I told you about what happened to my parents. How they had disappeared while trying to find Maurice.

I believed they had disappeared. That Margrave Edmund had adopted me because I was a part of his family. It was only after we defeated Maurice that he told me the truth of what happened.

My parents didn’t vanish. The other villagers had learned that my father bore the Crest of Maurice. They believed that he was the Demonic Beast that stalked our home, and so they planned to kill him. To kill my mother and me, to protect their home from the Beast. My parents learned of this, and to distract them, they left the village to lure them away. My adoptive father sent knights to save them, but they were too late.

The knights came to my home, told me to come with them. That my parents had gone somewhere, that I could see them if I came with them to Edmund territory. When I arrived, Margrave Edmund told me they had disappeared. He promised me he would find them. He gave me a place to live.”

Patricia demanded he ask her who killed them. Order her to give him their names, so once he returned from Enbarr, he could bring her their heads too. Take the regret and hatred from her shoulders and onto his.

“He brought them before me after the battle, while you all were preparing to leave. The villagers that killed my parents. He explained what they had done, asked me what I wanted.”

“And you wanted revenge.”

“I did. I told them who I was. I showed them Maurice’s sword, and explained the truth to them.” Perhaps he had missed her display of revenge. “But I let them go.”

“Why?” Why would she let them go? Her parents would-

“Even if I killed them, it wouldn’t bring my parents back. It was better to let them live with what they had done. When they knew the truth, they apologised. They begged for forgiveness.”

Dimitri was silent. Marianne pressed on with her story.

“The dead are gone. My parents are gone. I do not think they would want me to take revenge on other families because of what they did to them. And I don’t think yours would either, Dimitri.”

Glenn roared in his ears. How dare she assume to know what the dead wanted? What his family wanted?

“Even if it isn’t, it is far too late for me to come off this path.” Stubbornness wouldn’t let him past Marianne. The quiet, rational part of him said as much. So he tried to convince her. “Rodrigue’s death will be for nothing if I stop here, Marianne.”

“It is never too late.” She stood up from the wall. “Even if you were standing outside the gates of Enbarr, it would not be too late.” He flinched slightly as she reached out, tensed as she laid a hand on his chest. “Our lives are precious. If you feel this is the only path you can take, then I must ask you to do something selfish.

I want you to live. The dead cannot live, so you must live. If you want to seek revenge, or if you want to take another path, to move on with your life, then that choice is yours. But you must live, Dimitri. If not for your family, then for me.”

Glenn was silent. Rodrigue spoke. He agreed with Marianne.

Lambert and Patricia agreed with Rodrigue. Regardless of the path he would have to take, he needed to live to see it through.

“I… I do not know if I can, Marianne. For the last nine years, I have only lived to avenge the fallen.”

“Then avenge them. But when it is done, you must live. Please.”

“Live for what?”

“For you. For me. For those who have died, and those who are alive. Live for what you believe in.”

Rodrigue had told him as such when he had died. Still told him so now. “I…” He hesitated. “Do I even have the right to do that?”

“Yes.” Marianne’s hand closed slightly, as though she was feeling his heartbeat. “I believe you do. So please, Dimitri. Live.”

The light beat of the rain hitting the ground was the only sound for a while. Dimitri looked down at the hand on his chest, covered it with one of his own.

It was warm, despite the cold rain falling around them. Human. It didn’t belong near a beast like him.

But Marianne had once been called a beast too. A murderous monster. If she could live…

…could he live too?

…

She didn’t know what she’d be expecting. Maybe the sound of Felix complaining, or him arguing with Professor Manuela over leaving the infirmary. Some childish hope like that.

Instead, she found her father, sat in the chair she had pulled up next to Felix’s bed.

Even with how quiet and light she made her footsteps, he still heard her walk into the infirmary.

“Annette.” He didn’t stand up. Didn’t turn away from her. He stayed where he was, still looking at Felix.

“Father? What are you doing here?”

“Captain Jeralt asked me to come here. He said you’d missed your dinner and asked me to bring it.” He tilted his head at the bowl next to Felix’s bed. “He also asked me to remind you to sleep. That right now, there was nothing you can do, and to help you find something productive to do.”  
“Thank you, Father. But I am fine. I have books I can read while I wait.”  
“But where are those books, Annette?” Gilbert rose from the seat and turned, a stack of letters sitting in his hands. “I know how you must feel. But if you wish to keep a vigil until his recovery, then take these.”

How many letters were there? Annette could count over 30, 50 letters, even more than that. Gilbert pressed them into her hands with a bow of his head. “If they upset you, you may burn them. But please, Annette. Use your time wisely, and do not continue to blame yourself.”  
  


She understood now why her father blamed himself. She understood why he didn’t want her to blame herself.

“Thank you, Father.” He walked out of the infirmary. She took his place in the chair, lit a lone candle to read the letters with.

Victory had been theirs at Gronder Field; the Empire had been driven back. But it had come at great cost. Rodrigue had died. Byleth was missing. The Alliance’s forces were shattered, thanks to the rampage of the Professor, and the Dukedom was putting the pressure on them with the forces of Arundel and Dominic. Felix had almost died. The healers had done what they could after Annette got his heart working, but it hadn’t been beating right for a long time. There was no way to tell what sort of damage his body could have taken. Not until he woke up.

Flames. Her father had told her not to blame herself. Mercedes, Ingrid, Sylvain, even Captain Jeralt, they’d all told her not to blame herself. But if she had studied a little harder, been a little faster, she could’ve healed Felix quicker. She could’ve saved Rodrigue.

One of the letters threatened to spill out of her hand. She caught it. It looked old. She opened that one first, read through it.

It was meant for her. For her 13th birthday. Within it, he’d written about how proud he was of her. How he was sorry that he could not see her, that he hoped she had a great birthday.

Her 13th birthday had been almost 9 years ago.

The next letter she opened was more recent. It had been written during the war, likely around the time before he returned home, holding Byleth’s letter for her. Within it, he detailed how the people of Dominic spoke of her attempts to help them. Offering them healing, and comfort, praying with them for the recovery of their loved ones. Hoping that her mother was well, that they were doing okay.

The third letter was not addressed to her. Rather, it was addressed to her mother. Somewhat older than the last letter, but newer than the first. Within it, he spoke of how he missed her. How he feared she hated him now, that she and Annette both hated him for his failure to protect the King. For abandoning them for his duty. He wanted to see her again, to apologise for leaving so rashly, but he feared her rejection.

She read through all the letters. Some were meant for her; others were meant for her mother. The candle slowly melted down as she read each letter, smiling, grinning, trying to quash the sadness she felt when he confessed to feeling undeserving of them. Feeling it get chased away by the warmth and happiness she felt when she read that he still loved his mother, still loved her too. Gilbert missed his family dearly, the letters said as much. She’d need to tell him they loved him too.

By the time the candle had burned down to its last, the sun had risen. The soup lay untouched in its bowl as she finished the last letter, folded it back in the envelope it came from. She needed to find him, tell him to send the letters to her mother. Let her see this side of him, let her see that he still wanted them to be a family too.

She could have her family again.

Felix stirred, and she froze. Placed the letters down next to the bowl and stood up, wincing as her joints popped. Perhaps it was the euphoria of learning that her father still wanted to be a family that made her smile still, despite one of her biggest failures being laid in front of her.

“Felix…?” He flinched. “Felix, are you awake?”

He opened his mouth to say something. Coughed as his eyes flew open, then immediately winced at the bright light from the sunlight outside. Annette immediately turned, almost tripped over her chair in her haste to find him some water.

Felix couldn’t see because of the light next to him. He could hear someone running around. Judging from the sound, he was in the monastery, and they were in a hurry. A hurry for what? For him? He was fine. Body ached like he’d been fighting again, but fighting what? A Demonic Beast?

The footsteps got closer, a familiar smell of… flour? That can’t be right. Whatever it was, it got stronger as the footsteps got louder. “Felix, it’s Annette. I’m going to lift you up so you can drink this water, alright?”

Right. He tried not to flinch as he was lifted up, winced again as the muscles in his back protested the movement, but he tried to help Annette as much as he could. Once upright, he felt something pressed against his lips. A cup. He drank from it gratefully, and slowly opened his eyes.

He was in the infirmary. Annette was next to him, unsurprisingly. She took the cup away, since it was empty, and set it down on the table next to his bed.

Why was he in here? He hadn’t trained that hard, had he?

“Annette, why am I in here?”  
“You got hurt, in the battle… I thought I’d lost you.”  
“I told you, I’m not going to die.” Felix registered what she’d said, blinked at her in confusion. “What battle?”  
“The battle, Felix. The one at Gronder Field!”

Back at Gronder Field? The only battle at Gronder Field was the one they done in their school days before the war. But that was years ago, wasn’t it? He looked down at his hands, noticed that the scars from the war were still there. So the war had happened. What battle took place at Gronder Field?

“Annette, I don’t know which battle. The one from school? From before we were born?”

“You don’t remember?”  
“Remember what?” Felix looked at her now, why were her eyes shimmering so? It was too much to look at, so he looked away. So what if he didn’t remember a battle? He’d seen plenty of battles now, forgetting one wasn’t that uncommon for knights who’d served for years.

“Your father, Felix.” He saw Annette wring her hands out of the corner of his eye. “He’s… he’s gone.”  
  
“Really? I didn’t think he’d abandon his duties.”  
“No Felix. He’s gone.”

“Gone where? Gone home?”  
“No, he’s gone. Felix, he’s-“  
“If he’s gone home and left me to look after the Boar-“  
“He died in the battle, Felix.” He looked back at her, watched the tears trail down her cheeks in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, Felix. He ordered me to save you.”

His father was dead? “What do you mean he died?”  
  
“Dimitri, he… he ran into a forest. The girl we rescued from Myrddin, Fletche, she tried to kill him. Your father stopped her, but she hurt him badly. You killed her, but you disappeared further into the forest.”  
  
His father died for the Boar? First his brother, now his father?

“I stopped to help him, but he ordered me to find you-“  
“You should’ve helped him.”  
“He ordered me to find you, and you-“  
“I would have been fine, Annette.”  
“-you were dead. I-I brought you back, but Manuela, she said she didn’t know how you would be when you woke back up.”

It wouldn’t sink in. His father had died? Annette wasn’t the type to joke about that. The tears dripping from her face only confirmed his fear. He’d died. In a battle he didn’t remember.

Disbelief sank in at first, it was a lot for him to take in. He looked at Annette, who was talking about something else, probably how he had died. It didn’t register.

Then loss. The same feeling as that day he’d found out Glenn had died. Confusion. The pain in his chest, the feeling of anger. Except this time his father wasn’t there to hold him. Sylvain wasn’t there to try and cheer him up. Only Annette.

His father was dead. His father had ordered Annette to save him instead of himself. Why? He’d have been fine. Even if he had died, he’d probably have died doing what he loved; fighting against enemies out to kill him. His father may have been a stubborn old man, but he didn’t deserve to die. Not for the Boar.

Dimitri. Himself. Glenn. His father. They’d all died because of that damned Boar.

“Felix, I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t be.” Annette was not at fault here. She was only one person; she couldn’t have saved two people at once. “If anyone is at fault here, it’s the Boar. He shouldn’t have run off like that.”

“But I was supposed to heal people if they get hurt, Felix.”  
“And you did.” He was alive because of her. His father was dead because of the Boar. “But you can’t heal everyone the Boar kills.”

No. No one could. The Boar was beyond saving now. It had gotten his entire family killed.

Felix lay back down for the moment, gathering his strength. Figuring out a plan.

He needed to leave the infirmary. He needed to find Falchion. He needed to put the beast down, before it killed anyone else he cared about.

It took a moment, muscles straining from not being used in a while, but he pushed himself back upright, dragged his legs along the bed to the floor. He tried to stand, but his knees gave out, brought him down to the ground below.

He heard Annette stand, heard her run over to him, crouch down next to him. He forced his legs to stand, wobbled unsteadily as his body tried to adjust to walking again.

“Felix, wait!” Why was she so loud? His head hurt just listening to her ask him questions, let alone trying to think of answers. He forced himself forward, one step, two steps. Annette tried to grab him, asked him what was wrong again-

The ground shook violently, an ear-splitting roar echoed in the distance. Felix cried out, clutched his head, it was too loud! Why was everything so loud?! The ground shook once more, and Annette let go of him. He saw her stumble backwards onto the bed, barely stopped himself from falling.

The world shook a third time, and this time, Felix couldn’t stop himself from falling. He met the ground, and everything went black.

When he next awoke, he was alone in the infirmary. Annette had gone.


	14. Do Not Fear The Coming Days...

“How can Remire just be gone?”  
  
“We do not know.” Seteth and Jeralt exchanged looks as the students crowded around the war table, desperate for answers as to what had transpired. Seteth had some idea, but he wasn’t going to tell the students just yet. There was no reason to cause a potential panic when he didn’t know what had happened. “The scouts have only reported seeing craters where Remire Village once was.”  
  
“Something fell from the sky, though.” Caspar spoke up, and Seteth’s inner alarm bells rang ever louder. “There were rings around it as it fell.”  
“It looked like a javelin.” Hilda chimed in next to Caspar. “But like it was made of light.”

Jeralt’s eyes widened in realisation. “Seteth. It might have been Her Wrath.”  
“Her what?” He’d never heard it referred to as that before. Could Jeralt even have been meaning the same thing?

  
“There was a book in Abyss before the war. It mentioned lost technologies. One of them was supposed to have been a weapon that could attack from the heavens.”

Seteth had checked every single book he had thrown into Abyss. He knew the only book like that didn’t refer to it as Her Wrath.

Unperturbed by the lies he’d just told Seteth, Jeralt leaned forward in his seat, staring at Caspar and Hilda. “What colour were the rings around the weapon?”

“Uhhh… purple?” Caspar looked at Hilda for help. “Light purple.”

Seteth’s stomach plummeted like stone. Goddess help them, it was active again.

“Shit.” Jeralt immediately stood up out of his chair, turned to face Seteth. “Then that means someone’s called down the wrath of the Goddess. Seteth, we need to push for Enbarr, take out the Empire before it can be used again.”  
“How do we know the Empire has it? If we push for Enbarr and they aren’t in control of it, we’ll be at risk of whoever has it using it against us.” Seteth shook his head. “We need to take back Fhirdiad. We can split the army into smaller groups amongst the territories of the Kingdom, to make sure the enemy can’t just destroy us with one attack.” He’d need to find out what Jeralt knew of it later.

“If they are in control of it, then taking them out means we can take back Fhirdiad without worrying about them using it on us.”

“Think, Jeralt. If they were in control of it, they would have used it sooner. We cannot risk them targeting our forces with it if we’re stuck together like this.”

The former students watched Seteth and Jeralt argue, growing increasingly worried as their argument showed no signs of stopping. They knew something the rest of them didn’t, but whatever it was had them both concerned.

Annette, seeing as the argument wasn’t going to resolve soon, slipped out from the gathering and left the cardinals’ room. She was sure Mercie could tell her what they decided.

Which also reminded her that the Duscurian cookery books Dedue had found for her were still in her room, waiting for her to pass them along to Mercie. She’d intended to give them to her sooner, but with everything that had happened…

They had the advantage. They should be pressing the Empire back, marching towards Enbarr. Instead they were fighting amongst themselves trying to decide where to go; to go home to Fhirdiad and save it, or to continue on to Enbarr, and end this war before what just happened to Remire could happen to them.

Annette was torn. On one hand, she wanted to see this war ended. She didn’t want to lose anyone else. Cichol and Rodrigue were too many losses as it was. No one knew where Byleth had gone. Jeralt insisted they couldn’t have just left for no reason, but they hadn’t told anyone where they were going. Annette wanted to believe they would come back.

But what if they had died? What if they had been returning to the Monastery and had been caught up in the attack on Remire? The scouts had said they hadn’t found anyone that matched the Professor’s description, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t been caught up in it and captured! What if the Empire had captured them? What if-

She was panicking again. Come on Annette, you’re better than this! Mercie’s trying to be strong despite her being worried sick about the Professor, and Captain Jeralt was putting on a strong front, she should be able to as well!

She needed a distraction. What hadn’t she done today already? She’d gotten some sleep, woke up, watered the plants, cleaned up some of the debris from around the cathedral, gone to the meeting with everyone else… she hadn’t done some training yet. Maybe whacking a training dummy with an axe could provide some distraction for her? It was worth a try.

Annette changed course, headed for the training hall instead of her room. She’d leave the books in Mercie’s room once she was done. They could help distract her for a while until Byleth came back from… wherever they had gone.

The sounds of sword meeting training dummy made her pause. Everyone else was still in that meeting. There shouldn’t be anyone in the training hall except-

“Felix?”  
“What?” He turned to look at her and by the goddess she wanted to yell at him.  
“You’re supposed to be on bedrest. Why are you here? How did you get here?”  
“The infirmary is not that far. And I was bored.” He stumbled a bit as he tried to walk forwards, settled instead for pointing his training sword at her. “Spar with me.”  
“No, Felix. You’re supposed to be resting. Not training.”  
“I know, Annette. But I needed to be doing something.” He wobbled unsteadily on his feet. “Training helps.”  
“But if you don’t rest now, you’ll have to rest longer.”  
“I’ll be fine.” He tilted his head towards the weapon racks. “Spar with me. Please.”

“Alright. But if I win, you have to go back to the infirmary.”

“Fine.” Felix smiled, if only slightly.

Annette walked over to the rack where the axes lay. Usually, she used her bolt axe in conjunction with her magic but with the state Felix was in… she’d have to use axe techniques. No magic at all, except to heal him if he got hurt.

She pulled one of the axes off the rack, walked over to where he was standing. Usually it started with Felix launching the first blow, one she had quickly learned to parry to avoid losing before she could do anything.

Not this time. This time, Felix stood still, watching her closely. Which was odd, usually he was raring to go into battle, even if it just was a spar between them. Annette, always as eager to learn new things, waited herself, waited to see what Felix would do.

He did nothing. Just watched her. Until she had enough and swung her axe forwards. He moved only slightly, but enough to avoid her swing. She felt him tap her sword on her arm.

“I win.”  
“I want a rematch.”

She moved back into where she was stood before. Felix nodded his assent, and she moved forwards again, this time not swinging, but going for a feint. Pretend to swing the axe forwards, spin and swing it instead. Usually Felix would see it coming and parry it, force her back. He sidestepped, and this time, she caught him with the second swing.

“I won.”  
“No. I want a rematch.”

  
She nodded this time, stepped back. That was the thing with their sparring matches. If she won, he’d want a rematch. If he won, she’d want a rematch. Neither wanted to give up too quickly in their matches. She was driven, and wanted to become the best, to be the best. To be useful. Even with them holding back like this, it remained fun. It was something she could do to be useful to Felix.

For Felix? Annette was interesting to fight. An axe user who relied on magic? Not someone you’d usually end up fighting. She was competitive and was a lot smarter than some of his swordsmanship tutors. Even if he wasn’t off, like today, she could still keep him on the back foot in a spar. It didn’t come down to fighting a reflection of himself like Ingrid, or someone vastly stronger like the Professor, or Glenn. What she lacked in physical power, she made up for with her tactics and magic.

“What happened before? The shaking that happened didn’t feel like a quake.”

Annette stepped back to avoid a jab. “Something attacked Remire. It came from the sky, and it destroyed everything. Captain Jeralt and Seteth know something, but when I left, they were arguing over what to do.”  
  
“We go and stop it. That’s what we should do.”  
“But they don’t know where it came from.” Oops, she parried instead of blocked and sent Felix stumbling backwards! She grabbed his arm and pulled him upright, stepped back into her original position. “Captain Jeralt wants us to push for Enbarr. Seteth wants us to take back Fhirdiad and scatter our forces amongst the territories so if they do strike again, they won’t be able to get all of us.”

“What’s the Empire doing?”  
“They are rebuilding their forces. Gronder Field was a total loss for them.”  
“Good. Then we should go for Fhirdiad. Get the Kingdom back under our control.”

“His Highness said that too.”  
“The Boar did?” Felix snorted. “I thought I was the one needing bedrest. Did it hit its head too?”  
“No.” Annette wasn’t sure what had happened with Dimitri. Maybe Rodrigue had helped him in his last few moments? “His Highness is fine. He’s not demanding we march for Enbarr anymore, but he is mostly alright.”  
  


There was no way Marianne had gotten through to the Boar. It had killed his father. It needed to be put down.

“Just wait. It’ll go back to demanding the heads of the living for the dead as tribute.”  
  


Annette couldn’t say anything back. She wanted to believe Dimitri was getting better. But Felix had been friends with him far longer than she had known either of them. Maybe he was right.

She hoped he wasn’t. Dimitri was doing better now. He was acting like a prince now. Even with Byleth’s disappearance, it had done wonders to boost morale to see His Highness doing better.

The sparring ultimately concluded with Annette disarming Felix, his sword clattering to the floor as she held her axe in front of his face. “I win. No more.”  
  
“Alright. I’ll go.” Felix nearly fell trying to pick up the sword. Annette caught him as his legs gave out, stumbled back a bit trying to get her balance.

  
“Come on, Felix.” She lifted him back up, slung one of his arms around her shoulder so she could help him along. “I’ll help you back.”

“I’m fine, Annette.”  
“You’re not.”

He tried to answer back, but a yawn cut him off. He settled for humming a song to himself, though Annette wasn’t sure if he even knew what he was doing.

She recognised the song, though. Her library song. “Felix…” she groaned quietly. “Why that song?”  
“It’s nice.” It was embarrassing to hear him say that. “I like your songs.”  
“My songs aren’t that good… you should hear the songs Dorothea sings for her operas. Or Manuela.”  
“Nah. I like yours more. They sound more personal.”

_That’s because they are,_ she thought to herself. She shook her head but allowed herself to feel some pride in that someone other than her liked the songs.

The infirmary was, in fact, quite far. But they made it before the meeting was let out.

“Annette.”

“Almost there, Felix.”  
“What did they do with my father?”  
“They sent him back to Fraldarius. They’ll give him a good funeral when the war’s over.”  
“Good.” She helped set him down on the bed. “But I want to do something for him.”  
“When you’re better Felix.” Faerghus tradition demanded that as the heir, Felix would have to pay tribute to his father. She wondered if he remembered that. “I’ll help you with it.”

He smiled at that, before drifting off into sleep. She stayed with him for a while.

The Church could probably help Felix with it. She could ask Mercie and Ingrid and Sylvain for ideas to help him with it. A service for his father, in recognition of his valour in combat, and his achievements.

Rodrigue deserved no less than that.

…

It took a while for Felix to recover. Mainly because he refused to stay in bed and rest, fearing that the time spent in the infirmary would mean he’d grow rusty and lose his edge in battle. Only when Manuela relented and permitted him to spend some time each day at the training grounds did he stop trying to leave.

Annette visited him frequently. As did Sylvain, Ingrid, Jeralt and Seteth. The former Blue Lions were the most frequent visitors to him, but a few of the Golden Deer came by as well. Leonie pulled up a seat and picked his head about combat tactics. Raphael brought him food and passed on his advice regarding hand to hand combat. Marianne brought him news about the Boar. She always got the cold shoulder in return.

Marianne claimed it was getting better. That it had been devastated by Rodrigue’s death, by his own near death. He refused to believe her. He told her as much. “Dimitri is gone, Marianne. You’re wasting your breath.”

“No. Dimitri is back, Felix,” she insisted. “His Highness is back.”

Dimitri would never have gotten his father killed. Or him. Only the Boar would have.

So Felix bided his time. Waited for Manuela to give him the all-clear, to let him leave the infirmary. Once he had recovered, once he was back into practice, then he struck.

The Boar had tried to speak to him one day. Tried to see if he was recovering well. He refused to answer, turned away, hoping, pleading with the Goddess that it would drop the pretence and go back to being how it actually was. He had his duty, and he didn’t want to have to see it through. Not while it was wearing Dimitri’s skin again. Seeing the creature wearing his friend’s face? Hearing everyone else talk with hope, like Dimitri had come back from the dead? It was a horrific thing to do, to deceive their allies into thinking it was Dimitri.

“Annette told me that you’d been working on your sword fighting skills-“

Himself. Glenn. His father. They’d all died because of that damned Boar. If he let it leave here alive, who else would it get killed? Ingrid? Sylvain? Annette?

No. It died here. Dimitri had died long ago, what stood before him was nothing more than a beast. For the greater good of protecting his friends, it had to die.

Ingrid’s lance caught his sword inches from the Boar’s neck. She yelled at him, ordered him to explain himself as it looked at him in shock.

“I’m putting the Boar down. Before it gets anyone else killed.”

Ingrid threw her lance sideways, pulling his sword away and quickly knocked him down before he could react. The idea that Ingrid would try to protect the boar, the thing that would probably get her killed too surprised him, and he didn’t try to get her off of him as she pinned him down.

  
“Ingrid.” The Boar recovered, looked over at her pleadingly. “Let me speak to him.”  
“Your Highness, you need to leave. Whatever you want to tell him can wait until he’s calmed down.”  
“No, Ingrid. Please.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Boar.” He glared at the beast standing above him. “My family’s dead because of you, and I’ll burn before I let you get anyone else killed.”

“I know, Felix.” It looked conflicted, like it wasn’t sure on what to say. “I know it’s because of me.”

“Felix, that’s enough. Dimitri, please leave until Felix has calmed down.”  
“Ingrid, it is-“  
“Get off me, Ingrid.” Felix glared at her, and she glared back. “I’m doing the best thing we can do for the Boar.”  
“By killing him? Felix, I can’t let you kill His Highness. I’ll die before I let any harm come to him.”  
“Just like Glenn did? Just like my father did? Is that what you want? To die like a true knight, like my brother did?”

“I’d gladly die like Glenn did if it meant he didn’t die for nothing! Do you really want to make his death in vain?”

“He shouldn’t have had to die in the first place!”  
“He’s gone, Felix! No matter what you do to His Highness, it won’t bring him back!”

Gustave and Annette came running in, drawn by the sounds of their yelling, and the fight was quickly defused. Felix was confined to his room for a day and left to dwell on his thoughts.

Gustave was waiting for him when he left, with a warning. “You will not harm His Highness, regardless of your reasoning for it, Felix.” Felix tried to speak, but Gustave cut him off. “His Highness deeply regrets all that has happened and is willing to atone for his mistakes. You may disagree, but Captain Jeralt and Seteth have both agreed that should you make another attempt on Dimitri’s life, you will be executed immediately.”

“Why me and not the Boar? It’s the dangerous one.”  
“His Highness did not draw a weapon with the intent to take his future King’s life, Fraldarius.” Gustave glared at him. “Be thankful that my daughter cares about you as much as she does. I would not be this kind to you if she didn’t.” Gustave left, the heavy footfalls of his boots quietening as he left the floor his room was on. The warning had been delivered, a second message behind it.

Annette was the only thing stopping him from feeling Gustave’s full wrath. If Felix was to put the Boar down, he’d need to be careful of him. 

In a desperate attempt to draw the attention of everyone away from the rift between Felix and Dimitri, the group pushed ahead with their memorial for Rodrigue. Felix, when asked, insisted that they didn’t do anything for him. That it was a waste of resources, a waste of time for them. They could hold it properly when the war had ended. The rest of the Blue Lions vetoed him, Seteth and Jeralt argued against him, so he reluctantly relented.

The event was small. A rendition of Rodrigue painted by Ignatz stood in the centre of the cathedral. Dorothea and Manuela led the choir in singing a hymn, in honour of his memory. Felix stood on one side of the cathedral, alternating between looking at the picture of his father and glaring at Dimitri, who was stood on the other side with Gustave, Marianne and Dedue. Sylvain and Ingrid stood in the middle, both prepared to move in case Felix attempted to attack Dimitri again, both lamenting the bitter rift that had only widened with Felix’s recovery. His grievances were justified, neither could argue that. Felix had every right to be angry.

They just wished it didn’t have to happen while they were mourning the passing of Rodrigue. They remembered, when Glenn died, how Felix had clung onto Dimitri and bawled his eyes out, begging him not to go because he had been scared of losing him too. Now someone had to be watching him all the time, in case he tried to murder Dimitri in his sleep, believing himself to be putting down a demonic beast that was masquerading as their friend.

Even before Felix started trying to kill Dimitri, if Ingrid was being honest, it felt like they were all drifting apart. She was spending more days training with Dedue and Raphael, trying to turn Raphael into a respectable knight and working through her distrust of Dedue. Dimitri had been obsessed with avenging his family, and now was trying desperately to earn the forgiveness of Felix, while preparing for the eventuality that he would ascend to become King of Faerghus. Sylvain had started working on his own goals now, thanks to the help of Hanneman and Hapi., at the suggestion of the Professor before they vanished. They, along with Lysithea, were all preparing for after the war ended. Sylvain had confided in her that he was working to convince the nobles to stop prioritising Crests, to stop preaching the mindset that Crests were all that mattered. She hoped he could succeed, for everyone’s sake.

Felix had taken to training obsessively again. He was grieving, no matter how many times he denied it, they could all see he was hurting over the death of Rodrigue. Annette was trying to get him to talk to them all again, but…

The applause of everyone else gathered there drew Ingrid out of her thoughts. She quickly joined in, avoiding Sylvain’s curious glance in her direction and looked over at Felix. Still stood there, still scowling in annoyance at the whole affair.

“Thank you, Manuela and Dorothea, for leading the choir in such a beautiful performance.” Both ladies curtsied and smiled at Seteth, before returning to their seats next to Petra and Ashe as the rest of the choir moved to sit down. “I am sure Rodrigue would be delighted with the service we have performed for him today, and I know the Goddess will watch over him always. But before today’s memorial service is concluded, I must ask if anyone has any last words they wish to say.”

Ingrid stood. She looked to Felix, almost as if asking permission to speak on his father.

He rolled his eyes and looked away. She frowned, turned back to Seteth. Prepared to speak.

"Do not fear the coming days, coming days, coming days…

I am going to save you all, my dear children."

That wasn’t her singing. She looked around. No one else was singing either.

"Do not fear the coming days, coming days, coming days…”

The people gathered in the cathedral looked at each other. Their murmuring almost drowned out the singing. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jeralt stiffen. Like he recognised the song.

“I am going to save you all, my dear children."

Jeralt stood. Turned around, as did she, as the doors to the cathedral creaked open behind them, as someone pushed them open and walked in, bathed in the sunlight streaming in from outside.

"Do not fear the coming days, coming days, coming days…

I am going to save you all, my dear children."

Byleth, the Professor, walked through the doors into the cathedral, allowed their voice, their song, to echo around the building. All eyes fell on them as they stopped, the light shining from the ceiling illuminating the dried blood upon their face, the tremble in their legs as they looked at no one, looked beyond the painting of Rodrigue at the hole in the ceiling.

“Hello, my children.” Byleth smiled at them all. “I am sorry for how late I am. It will not happen again.”

Chaos interrupted. Annette and Ingrid immediately ran to stop Felix, who’d tried to make a beeline for Dimitri yet again. Everyone else charged out of the pews, ran towards Byleth, shouting for them.

Jeralt stood frozen, watching Byleth get swarmed by everyone else. He let out a sigh of relief. Where in the Goddess’ name had they been all this time?

Byleth provided no answers, simply content to let them all fuss over them, worry, fret over their wellbeing. They’d walked for weeks, since Gronder Field. Afraid to go back, to go see what had become of the battle. Had everything been for nothing, as they had feared? Had it still ended in a massacre?

But everyone was still here. Dimitri looked… less haunted now, much healthier, but just as disbelieving as Jeralt had when they walked in. Felix glared angrily at Dimitri, even as Annette and Ingrid held him back to stop him from moving. Had something happened between them?

Mercedes squeezed her way through the crowd gathered around them, stopped short of bumping into them. Her hands glowed, ready to heal, but Byleth just shook their head. They weren’t hurt. They were tired and in need of a clean, but they were fine.

Seeing that everyone was alive, everyone was alright… That was enough for Byleth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Byleth sings is meant to go to the tune of London Bridge is Falling Down, particularly the version by Dezzaired that was used for the trailer for Zombi.


	15. The Wandering Flame

That night, Byleth returned alone to the cathedral. The intention was to pray, to offer thanks to the Goddess for keeping the child- their students alive, to pray for Rodrigue’s soul to rest in peace. To figure out what to do next, now that Gronder Field had come and gone. Jeralt and Seteth hadn’t asked them what they thought yet, instead ordering Byleth to eat and rest first. As though they had time for Byleth to recover. A blessing in disguise, since Byleth needed time to process everything.

Instead, they found Mercedes inside. Praying alone to the Goddess, much like they were planning to do. Out of respect for her prayers, they kept quiet as they approached, standing beside her to perform their own prayers. Giving thanks to the Goddess for everything, praying for forgiveness for their actions. Fearing the reaction of the world when the truth would eventually come out.

“Hello, Professor.” Mercedes finished her prayer and looked over at Byleth. “I hoped you would come to pray tonight.”

“I pray most nights.” Byleth finished their prayer too, looked up from their hands. Mercedes wore a look of worry; one they were long used to seeing. “Is there something wrong, Mercedes?”  
  
“Well… yes, and no. My father wrote back to me a few days ago.”  
“Oh?”  
“He isn’t happy with what happened but understands why it had to happen.” Mercedes frowned. “He has given me his blessing to join the Church when the war has ended.”  
“And what of your mother? Is she okay with you joining as well?”

“She is. But Professor, I must ask you something.” Byleth nodded and turned to her. The question had to have come someday. “Was there no other way?”  
“With the resources we had? No. We could’ve cured it without paying such a high price before the war started, but…”

While wandering back to the Monastery, Byleth had finally started to understand why Hanneman and Linhardt had prioritised Lysithea over Mercedes during the war. Mercedes’ condition had been their fault, yes, but in the grand scheme it wasn’t as bad as Lysithea’s condition, or Edelgard’s condition. It still bugged them that things turned out this way, but it was something Byleth would have to live with it. The goddess had commanded it.

“…there’s no point in regretting it now. You’re alive, and you can heal others again. That’s the important thing.”

“It truly is, Professor. But do you believe the Church will take me in, despite what happened?”  
“I believe so.” But the Church was rotten. Mercedes could do so much better than working as a cleric. “You’re a wonderful healer and a great confidant, Mercedes. Seteth can see that, so the Church will too.”  
“I’m glad to hear that, Professor.”

“But I think you could do more. Not just limit yourself to aiding the Church. Help those who do not seek the Goddess’ aid, those who can’t. Help children without families. Look at Dorothea. The Church didn’t help her. If you could be there for a child like her, maybe things could have turned out differently.”  
“Professor-“  
“Gut feeling.” They knew the question. They didn’t want to answer how they knew about Dorothea’s past. Dorothea had confided in them once about it. It wasn’t their place to tell Mercedes about her childhood.

“I see.” She frowned and turned away, and she didn’t have to speak to catch what else Mercedes wanted to say.

_I wish you would confide in me more._

Byleth had told Jeralt enough as it was. Confiding in more people would just increase the risk of people who shouldn’t know about it finding out. They had to be cautious.

“But I have some good news of my own for you, Mercedes. I found Emile.”  
“You did?” Mercedes’ smile could have lit up the whole cathedral. “Where is he? Is he alright?”  
“He is fine. He’s stationed at Fort Merceus, currently.” Her smile quickly disappeared, as Byleth tried to explain. “When we get there, I promise you we will save him. I won’t let your brother die.”

“If we march for Enbarr, Professor, we’ll have to fight him.” Mercedes looked conflicted as she spoke, trying to decide what best to do in the situation ahead. Emile was her brother, but if he was there, then he would be fighting as the Death Knight. Not as her brother. “If we can, then please try, Professor. But don’t let anyone die because of this. The Death Knight is my family’s mistake, and I cannot bear losing anyone else.”

“Emile is not your mistake, Mercedes.”  
“If we had taken him with us-“  
“Bartels would’ve murdered you all.” Byleth wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. Byleth wasn’t supposed to know that. Mercedes looked at them in surprise, and they quickly tried to explain. “House Bartels needed an heir, and Emile was that heir. If you had taken him with you, he would’ve hunted you down to reclaim him.”  
  
“I see. But Professor, I never told you about House Bartels.”

_“No.”_ Sothis spoke before Byleth could even try to Divine Pulse. “ _You must live with your mistakes, Byleth. Be they great or small.”_

“Ahh… My father told me about the massacre of House Bartels-“

Jeralt walked through the doors of the cathedral, just in time to interrupt the conversation, and Byleth was ever thankful that their father was more of a night owl. “Byleth. Mercedes.”

“Hello, Captain Jeralt. I was just discussing my brother with Byleth.” Mercedes smiled at him kindly. “Did you know about what happened to House Bartels?”

  
Byleth’s look of panic and pleading painted a rare picture, and Jeralt felt so bad for the kid that he played along with the lie without asking why. “Yes, I did. We were hired to escort him to Hrym territory. The guards who rode with us explained the story.”  
  
“I see.” Byleth tried not to feel hurt that Mercedes trusted Jeralt, that she believed him where she doubted them. That was the thing. People who hide secrets are hard to trust, and harder to believe. “Byleth thinks that if me and my mother had taken Emile with us, Emile’s father would have killed us.”  
“He would have.” Now that was something Jeralt didn’t need to lie about. Baron Bartels had been infamously protective of his son, refusing to let the boy interact with people unless he approved of it. Between Baron Bartels and Count Varley, noble children weren’t treated very well in the Empire. Small wonder so many of them defected or turned out as brutal as Edelgard did. “He wouldn’t even leave his servants alone in a room with the kid. Bartels would never have given up chasing you to get him back.“

“That’s what Mother said, too. But I always wondered, if we had taken him with us-“  
“Don’t.” Jeralt’s voice cut through the cathedral like a blade, cut off Mercedes and Byleth as they tried to speak. “What’s done is done. What has Byleth promised you?”  
  
Mercedes looked at Byleth. They nodded. “That they will save Emile.”  
“Then they’ll save him. Don’t waste time wondering what if you had done this or that.” Jeralt folded his arms, looked at Mercedes and Byleth equally. “If you feel leaving him behind was a mistake, then make up for it once we get him back.”  
  
Mercedes looked down at her feet, and Byleth looked at her, conflicted, hands reaching out as if to try and offer her support in some way. She looked up before they could, and they backed off. “Thank you, Captain. I will. Good night, Byleth. Please don’t stay up too late.”

Mercedes departed the cathedral, the closing of the doors the only sound as parent and child looked at each other. Neither spoke, and the silence between them only grew and grew as they both waited for the other speak.

Byleth cracked. “I messed up. I slipped up and revealed something I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, Jeralt.”

  
“We can’t all be omnipotent like the Goddess, kid. Maybe you should stop trying to act like Lady Rhea.”  
  


When you had the power to turn back the hands of time, you exploited it for as much as the Goddess allowed you to. Sometimes beyond that. Whatever it took to get things right. You were, for all intents and purposes, omnipotent. You knew how everything would go. How everything would end. Rhea lacked that power. Byleth controlled it. Mistakes could easily be wiped away. Unless the Goddess forbade you from it.

  
“I wasn’t trying to. I was just trying to reassure Mercedes that the Church would accept her.” Jeralt looked at him sceptically. “She lost her Crest, Father. With how everyone is, she has every right to be afraid. People don’t just lose Crests.”  
  
“Not now. But wasn’t one of the brats wanting to make people stop caring about Crests?”  
“Sylvain was, yes. But that takes time.” Byleth sighed, ran their hand over their face. “Enough. What’s happened while I was away?”  
  
“Felix tried to kill His Highness.”  
“Why? That doesn’t sound like Felix.”  
“He thinks His Highness needs to be put down. Thinks he’s some sort of Demonic Beast.”  
“Does he have claws and teeth?”  
“No, but Rodrigue died saving him from Fletche. Like you told me he would. Then Felix almost died trying to save his father, according to Annette.” Byleth looked away, refused to meet Jeralt’s eyes. “You told Fletche that Dimitri killed that Imperial commander, Byleth. You need to fix this.”  
“I don’t need to fix anything.” Rodrigue wasn’t their child. He was a relic of the past, fated to die so others could survive. He’d died at Gronder protecting Felix. He’d died at Arianrhod protecting Ingrid. “Rodrigue knew what was coming.”  
“You lied and got someone killed. At the very least, you can get your brats to stop trying to kill each other-”  
“You do not get to tell me how to look after my children, Father.” Now Byleth looked at him, Lady Rhea’s madness in their eyes. “I know what I did. I will deal with the consequences of my actions when the time comes. But it is not your place to tell me how to handle them. They are not mercenaries I can just command whenever I want.”  
“You are their commander, not their Goddess, Byleth. It doesn’t matter what Rhea did to you, or to Sitri, it does not excuse you ignoring a problem with your army.“  
“I am not their commander. I am the Wandering Flame. I am their saviour, not their leader, as I am yours. Or have you forgotten that it was my power, my knowledge, that saved you from the Slitherers?”

Disgust. That was the only word for what Jeralt felt towards Byleth then. Disgust that they would insist on refusing to acknowledge the consequences of their actions now. For all of Byleth’s insistence that they were the Goddess, the Wandering Flame, they really did not seem to grasp what made everyone turn to the Goddess.

Jeralt stared down his child. “Then tell me, oh Goddess.” His tone was mocking, like they’d heard many a time when someone tried to cheat Jeralt out of a paycheck. “Where did you go while you left us poor mortal souls to look after your children?”

“Ordelia. Where Sothis’ wrath was called down on me. Just like it was called down on Remire, as a warning to the Kingdom’s army.” Byleth turned away. “The answer that you want is Cornelia and Lord Arundel. They are Slitherers, aligned with Edelgard. They are the ones in possession of the weapon.”

“They targeted you?”  
“Of course.” Byleth pulled a flask out from their cape pocket, swigged at the drink inside for a moment. ”The Slitherers are gone, but they set loose some bandits. No match for me, of course, but then you already knew that.” Byleth stared up at the hole in the ceiling, looked out at the heavens above. “You should go, Father. We need to leave for Fhirdiad soon.”  
  
“Byleth-“  
“Go.”

Byleth heard Jeralt’s angry mutterings as he left, heard the cathedral doors slam harder than they were supposed to. Sothis whispered in their head, asked them why they had shut Jeralt out, why they had shut Mercedes out. Why they refused to let them help.

The answer was really quite simple.

The world Byleth wanted to create was within reach. They did not need to pretend they were okay anymore. Once Fhirdiad was back in their hands, the Kingdom would be secure. Jeralt would not do anything that risked causing unrest or undue worry while the war was on, and once the war was over…

Well. Byleth would be the winner then. Not Rhea. Not Edelgard. Not those freaks who lived underground. Byleth would be the winner. It would be their world, for better or worse. A world for those who’d died fighting for Rhea, fighting against Rhea.

A world where their children could live in peace. Where the nightmare would finally be over.


	16. Take Back the Capital!

The first war council since Byleth returned was called the next day, and Byleth provided the group with the names of the people in possession of the weapon that destroyed Remire. With Jeralt convinced to march for Fhirdiad, the topic turned to how they could punch through to the capital of the Kingdom.

“We should split our forces up into two groups.” Seteth drew a line through the territories of Charon and Galatea, and a second through the Tailtean Plains. “Send one to circle around and gather support while the second acts to draw the Dukedom’s forces away.”  
  
“Or we could stay as one group and circle around.” Jeralt drew a line through Charon, Galatea and Fraldarius. “Gather the support of the two territories we know to be on our side before marching for Fhirdiad.”  
“We do not know Charon’s stance on the matter. Marching our entire army through their territory could lead to a fight we don’t want to take.”  
“The other choice is making a beeline for Tailtean Plains. If the enemy knows we’re coming that way, they could circle around and ambush us.”  
  
“They don’t have the forces for that.” All eyes turned to Byleth, who was scrutinizing the map as they spoke. “Arundel’s taking advantage of the Alliance falling apart and Ordelia’s surrender to press the assault with the Dukedom. Cornelia’s only got a small army left, since they’re expecting us to march for Enbarr.”

  
“Ordelia surrendered?”  
“A large part of their territory got destroyed by the same weapons that destroyed Remire. They had no choice.” Byleth held up a hand, looked over at Lysithea. “Your parents are safe.”

“What about the people there?”  
“I don’t know. It was chaotic, I was lucky to escape from there when I did.” Byleth turned back to the map. “We should go straight for Fhirdiad, take it back from Cornelia. I don’t know how much longer the Alliance has left in them.” Their head sagged low. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news for you all.”

The room fell silent. The former Golden Deer all stared at Byleth, all tried to process what their Professor had just said. The Alliance was their ally, their home. Now it was falling apart, and if they didn’t retake Fhirdiad immediately, they could lose everything.

“Then we better take it back!” Raphael, ever the ball of sunshine, stood up with a grin on his face. “If Cornelia doesn’t have a large army, we can smash it easily. Then we can go help out the Alliance!”

“I agree.” Marianne spoke quietly, but with confidence. “If the Kingdom is reunited, then we can bring all their forces in to take down Lord Arundel and his army.”

“We’ve still got Holst and Claude in the Alliance.” Hilda smiled in the direction of the Professor. “Claude’ll have a plan, and Holst will back him up. We just need to get there when they need us, right?”  
  
“Indeed. So long as even one house stands against the Dukedom, the Alliance shall not be defeated. The forces of Riegan and Gloucester, under the command of Holst?” Lorenz smiled. “Even if they cannot win, I believe they’ll keep Arundel tied up.”

“Then we’ll march for Fhirdiad at the end of the week.” Byleth sighed in relief. “Once we have the Kingdom back, we’ll go straight to helping the Alliance. Thank you all.”

  
Seteth stroked his chin in thought. “The question is, which route do we take?”   
  


“We go for the Tailtean Plains. If we spread misinformation, we could lure most of her forces away to one of the other territories while we go for Fhirdiad.” Jeralt drew a line from Fhirdiad to Fraldarius. “If they think we’re marching through to Fraldarius first, then they’ll send forces there.”  
“Or we just tell them we’re coming.” Byleth shrugged. “If they know the Prince is returning, then they might just throw Cornelia out for us.”  
“She still has soldiers with her, Byleth. We can’t ask the residents of Fhirdiad to just sacrifice themselves for their Prince.”  
“Why would we ask them to do that?” Byleth looked pointedly at Jeralt, who just glared back. “I meant that if they find out we’re coming they might riot. Make it hard for them to communicate, so Cornelia herself has to go out there.”

“Even so, we still have to take down her forces to get to her.”

“We’ve got enough forces to be able to overwhelm her. Give me a small task force and I could take her down.” Byleth folded their arms. “Anyone else got any ideas?”  
  
No one spoke up.

“Then we march for the Tailtean Plains. We’ll decide what we’re going to do information wise before we leave.”

The rest of the week was spent preparing for the journey. Horses were armoured up, wyverns were prepped. Byleth joined Felix and Annette in sparring matches, which Annette was grateful for since they tired Felix out and made it easier to keep him away from His Highness.

The night before they were to leave for Fhirdiad, though, Annette found herself unable to sleep. She’d read and re-read her textbooks, practiced her spells quietly, but still couldn’t get herself to be tired enough to sleep. After one spell that glowed a little too brightly, she heard someone knocking on her door. Probably Shamir on her night-time patrol, making sure she was okay.

“I’m sorry, Shamir, I won’t let it get that bright again-“  
“Hello, Annie.”  
“Mercie?” This was a surprise. Annette thought Mercedes would be asleep by now. “What are you doing here?”  
“I can’t sleep. I was hoping someone would still be away so I could talk to them.”  
“I can’t sleep either.” Annette blinked, before stepping back and gesturing to Mercedes to come in. “I was trying to tire myself out but-“  
“-it didn’t work for you, either.” Mercedes smiled and nodded. “I hope I’m not troubling you, Annie.”  
“Not at all!” Annette smiled back as she shut the door. “What did you want to talk about?”  
  
“Well… I was thinking of what would happen after the war was over.”

Right. Once they’d taken back the Kingdom and saved the Alliance, they’d need to take down the Empire next. The reports coming in claimed the Empire was still struggling to recover enough forces to go back on the offensive. Gronder Field had been a complete loss for them.

“Oh?” Annette sat down on the bed, watched Mercedes pull out her chair and sit down on it. “Are you not going to become a cleric for the Church?”  
“Well… that is still what I think I should do. And now I have my adoptive father’s blessing to do so. But…” Mercedes looked conflicted. “I’m not sure if that’s what I want to do.”

“Why not?”  
“I was thinking about something I overheard the other day.” Goddess, she so badly wanted to confide in Annie about Byleth. How they were hiding secrets. But if she did, it would cause even more tension in the group, even more so than there already was because of Felix’s actions.

So she lied. Slightly. She had overheard something, at least.

“Yuri and Sylvain were discussing how children who were born without Crests are thrown away or disowned when a child with a Crest is born. Like how Sylvain’s brother was? And that some children are adopted by families not because they want a child, but because they were born with a Crest. I can’t stop thinking about how all those kids would’ve been left on the streets, or just put into an orphanage because they weren’t born with a Crest.”

This was the first time Annette had heard of something like that. “What? Why? Why would they just throw away a child?” She couldn’t believe it. “How can someone just throw away their own child?”  
“I don’t know, Annie. But hearing about it… it made me think. I wanted to help the Church for helping me and my mother when we were struggling. But the thought of all those children without any family of their own, because of how they were born…”  
“…makes you so upset that you want to do something to help them.” Annette could understand. It was why she had started helping people as much as she did back in Dominic, before Byleth returned. Frustration and sadness were incredibly motivational in getting you to help. “I get it.”  
  


“But what about you, Annie?” Mercedes frowned. “I know I want to do something to help those children, but what do you want to do?”  
  
“I don’t know. I was thinking maybe something like teaching, like Professor Hanneman does. But with that to think about…” Annette was silent for a moment. “I think that teaching students would be fun. But helping them to find stable homes, where they can have loving families? I think that would be for the best.”  
“You could do both. Teach students while helping them to find a family. I’m sure you could do that.”

“Maybe.” It was something to think about. They spoke for a while longer, then Mercedes departed to try and sleep again.

They left for Fhirdiad in the morning.

The decision was made before they set off. They would alert the Dukedom that they would march for Fhirdiad, in order to draw all of Cornelia’s remaining forces into one area. Reinforcements from Galatea, Gautier and Fraldarius would crash into them from the east, while they attacked from the Tailtean Plains. If all went to plan, they would overwhelm the Dukedom’s forces with very few, if any, casualties.

On the march to Fhirdiad, Hapi caught up to Dimitri. Felix, seeing that she and the Boar were having a private discussion, being closely watched by Gustave and Byleth, wandered over to overhear what was being said.

“…need to see if it’s the same person. I’d appreciate the help.”  
“Of course. We will escort you to see Cornelia when the enemy forces have been defeated.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I needed-“ Hapi stopped talking, looked at Felix. “What? Am I needed?”  
“No.” Felix walked away, caught up to Sylvain and Annette. Whatever Hapi was planning wasn’t really his concern anyway. He needed to watch the Boar. Watch Annette, make sure she didn’t-

As he said that, he tripped over a rock and had to be caught by Annette and Sylvain. He grunted out a thanks and continued marching.

No enemy forces awaited them for their entire journey to Fhirdiad. Multiple times, local villagers and citizens of the territories they passed would ride out to them, pass along whatever meagre supplies they could. Food, weaponry, water. Some even offered to join up, aid them in taking back the capital.

Dimitri asked them not to. This was his battle, he needed to take back the capital. He wouldn’t risk the lives of the people who’d already suffered enough under Cornelia for a battle he could win with his army. They returned home, but offered to support him once he had removed Cornelia from her position. He accepted that.

Word was passed along as they walked. The territories that weren’t fully loyal to the Dukedom had broken out into rioting, Fhirdiad included. All of them were ready for Dimitri to return to the Kingdom, to reclaim his rightful place on the throne at Fhirdiad. He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t understand why.

“They believe in you, Dimitri. You may blame yourself for not being able to save them sooner, but they don’t.”

It was almost as if they were in sync again. Dimitri looked out of the carriage Gilbert had forced him to ride in, watched Marianne and Dorte trot up to next to him. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure. No one blames you, Your Highness.”

Dimitri looked out of the carriage. Felix locked eyes with him and glared at him, and he sighed and turned away. Marianne was wrong about no one blaming him.

One person did. And for a good reason.

They arrived outside the city of Fhirdiad to see the Dukedom’s forces engaged in battle with a much smaller force. Galatea and Fraldarius were worn down by the constant rebellion against the Dukedom, and Gautier had only been able to spare some forces in order to keep watch over the Sreng desert. It was fortunate that they had arrived when they did.

They took a moment to assess the situation. The army was smaller, much smaller than they had expected. No unusual defences like what Byleth had warned for. Nothing too bad to be concerned about.

At Dimitri’s command, they charged. Cornelia’s forces saw them coming, tried to break away to intercept them. The rebellion’s forces nipped at their heels, ran down anyone too slow to turn and charge, tied up any forces that tried to hold them off long enough for Dimitri’s army to crash into the side of them, to slaughter and kill anyone who didn’t immediately surrender.

The army marched through the remains of her ruined forces, making a beeline straight for Cornelia, who was stood alone outside the gates to the capital. No guards, no soldiers. Nothing. Was she that confident that she could win a battle against them?

“That’s her,” Hapi said as they walked towards Cornelia. “When I heard she was a court mage, I wasn’t sure. But that’s her.”

“Very well. That will be something else she will pay for.” Dimitri and Marianne marched ahead of the army, Hapi following close behind them. “Cornelia! The battle is over. Surrender at once!”

“My. So the Prince returns, at long last. Come to reclaim your throne, have we?” Cornelia smirked. “And you brought along the Fell Star with you. How delightful.”  
“Enough. Was it you, Cornelia? Was it you who killed my uncle and framed me for it?”  
“Yes. I had forgotten about that little… loveliness.”  
“You monster. I’m going to put you down for what you’ve done!”  
  


Areadbhar smashed into a magical shield, and Cornelia’s smirk vanished. “Don’t call me a monster. You and your beloved Professor are the same as me!”

A Hades and an Aura forced the shield to crack, and Cornelia warped backwards to escape the backlash, fired a Hades of her own at Dimitri. Marianne deflected it, and the two charged forwards, Relics raised. Another shield caught both weapons. Hapi warped behind her and blasted her in the back with a Hades of her own.

“Stupid child. That was MY gift to you!”  
“Then take it back.”

Two Hades spells collided, blew Hapi against the gate and Cornelia past Dimitri and Marianne. She threw up a shield in time to catch Areadbhar, blocked the descending slice of Blutgang with her wand. Agarthan tech designed to counter Relics, rather handy in close quarters. Cornelia fired a spell in retaliation and Marianne flew backwards with a scream, landed on her back panting heavily.

With only one enemy to focus on, Cornelia got back to her feet, forcing Areadbhar back, wrapping the shield around it to force it backwards, despite Dimitri’s inhuman strength. The lance bent further and further backwards, getting closer to Dimitri’s face, to his remaining eye. Almost an exact replica of what had happened five years ago, when Dimitri had last tried to kill Cornelia.

Hapi and Marianne blasted Cornelia with magic, and the shield was forced back to block the spells. Dimitri stumbled away; his eye still intact but his weapon considerably damaged. Cornelia fired a spell at Hapi, who warped out of the attack’s way and fired another Hades at her. A problem quickly presented itself for Cornelia as she battled the three. Against one, she could win easily, but the other two would take advantage of her focussing on one to try and kill her. She was strong, but the numbers weren’t in her favour. It was foolish of her not to deploy the Titanus, she realised, but she had expected Arundel to back her up. To crush the Prince’s army between them. Where in the Sages’ names was he?

At the same time, Dimitri and Marianne realised that they had the advantage. That despite Cornelia’s immense power, they could take her down by working together, not just as allies, but as partners. And when they realised this, their training kicked in, and they synched up for the first time in years. They moved as one, thought as one.

They became one. They became more than one.

Hapi tried to keep up, she really did. But in the end, all she could do was watch. Watch, as Dimitri and Marianne outmanoeuvred Cornelia at every turn, as Dimitri threw Areadbhar to Marianne so she could shatter Cornelia’s shield, as he blasted Cornelia in the back with an Aura spell so unexpected even Byleth looked impressed.

Cornelia tried too, she lasted far longer than Hapi did, even having Dimitri dead to rights at one point before Byleth interfered and forced her back, but she was tiring and in a situation she couldn’t win. Even if she defeated Dimitri and Marianne, she would still have to contend with the rest of the army. Dimitri’s army, who would want revenge for their Prince. Who they respected so much that they stayed out of it, despite all of them having a reason to cut down Cornelia where she stood. Out of everyone with a grievance against Cornelia, Hapi had been the only one to get involved in Dimitri’s battle.

Maybe they felt the Prince was owed that battle? She didn’t know. What she did know was that Dimitri and Marianne were overwhelming the court mage. One of the strongest mages on the continent, the reason why her curse existed in the form it did, and she was falling to His Highness and a healer. It was kind of cathartic to watch.

So she continued to watch as Cornelia started to take more nicks and cuts from Dimitri and Marianne, watched as her wand finally broke under the strain of Blutgang and Areadbhar. As she ran out of spells, and resorted to teleporting frantically, only to be caught by Byleth and thrown towards Dimitri and Marianne, the only other person to get involved besides herself. Hapi watched as Cornelia threw up one last shield, one that was already weaker than any of her previous ones, that shattered under twin Aura spells, and left her open. By the time she realised what was going to happen, they had already run her through, Areadbhar snapping off as it pierced her heart.

“That, Cornelia, was for my family.”

“The Goddess will see you soon.”

Cornelia had no final words. No world-shaking mysteries to reveal. Blutgang had killed her instantly when Marianne had rammed it through her head, and she fell forwards without a sound as she freed it.

The Dukedom had fallen. Dimitri, no, the Kingdom, had won. The resounding cheers echoed around both the plains, and the city.


	17. Hail to the Humans!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...huh, we're over the halfway point now. Almost there, people.

The residents of Fhirdiad eagerly welcomed the army into their city. People poured out of their homes to offer their condolences, to praise Dimitri’s skill in the battle, to greet their returning prince. Raphael and Ingrid walked ahead of them, herding eager citizens out of the way of His Highness. Dedue and Gilbert fell into step besides him, offering reassurances that Marianne was fine, that Mercedes and Manuela were tending to her as they walked towards the castle. He greeted the people as he walked, tried to recall his decorum lessons he had been taught before the war.

It had been a long five years since the war had broken out. Dimitri hadn’t ever expected to return home. His only goal throughout this entire war had been to reach Edelgard and murder her, slowly and painfully. To satiate the dead, who even now howled in his ears to get this over with, to get on the road to Enbarr again. Every day, Glenn still whispered in his ear, demanding to know when he would let him rest. Cornelia’s death had quietened his parents down, but not Glenn. He was still there.

Now, he marched through the capital, towards the castle where he had lived for many years before the war. He had been surrounded by friends and allies then, like he was now. He wasn’t alone anymore, and, if he believed the Professor, the end of the war was in sight. The people around him were willing to fight alongside him to the end. The least he could do was become a leader for them.

That started here. In Fhirdiad.

The army marched into the castle and began to split off. They sought out rooms to set up areas to treat patients, as while Marianne had gotten off lightly in the battle, other soldiers had not. Others tried to find a place to rest and recover and prepare for the next battle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Manuela leading Marianne off into a nearby room. He’d have to check on her in a moment.

For now, Dimitri stood still, gazed up at the statue of Loog that still remained in the castle hall, as tall and imposing as ever. It still looked well cared for, not crumbling anywhere. The dent in the leg seemed to have been fixed, or maybe he was misremembering.

His father had told him many times about who Loog was, what he’d done. Why they still looked after the statue of him, all these years later. He’d admired the man, believed him to be the fairy-tale hero the stories had told him. Now, he wondered. He wondered if Loog had gone through the same thing he was, if he had doubted himself. If he had believed himself to be a monster. Marianne, and Dedue and Ingrid, and Gilbert all insisted he wasn’t a monster. The Professor had told him it didn’t matter in the end. War was war, it was him or them.

That didn’t make him feel like any less of a beast. Even when he had killed Cornelia, he’d still felt the same guilt over killing someone else as he had all of his other kills. All this, for the sake of his war. So that his friends could have their Kingdom back. Surely there had to be another way? One that didn’t require such needless slaughter of soldiers?

“Rodrigue would be proud of you, Your Highness.” Dimitri jumped at the sound but settled down as he recognised Byleth. “Your faith magic is coming along well. Marianne will be fine.”  
“That is good. I just wish I had learnt it sooner.” Rodrigue would still be alive if he had. Dimitri turned back to looking at the statue. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”  
“Not at all.”  
“Thank you.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. Glenn settled down, waited for him to speak. “Professor, do you ever feel guilty over the people that you kill?”  
“No. Not unless I know them.” Dimitri looked at them in surprise, and they shrugged. “If I know them, and I can’t save them, I… yes. I feel guilty about killing them. Why?”  
  
“When me and Marianne killed Cornelia before, I thought it would be satisfying. She killed my uncle and framed me for it. She drove the Kingdom into the ground. She deserved to die. But instead, I just feel guilty for killing her. But what else could I have done?”  
  


There were many things that Dimitri could have done. He could have had Marianne cast a silencing spell on Cornelia. Had his army trample her, disarmed her and tied her up like Byleth had done to Lorenz at the Bridge of Myrddin. He could have spared her, hindsight being what it is.

But no. Dimitri had killed her. Well, Marianne did, but Dimitri would just blame himself for it if Byleth told him that. He’d keep blaming himself, and ultimately get himself and Felix killed trying to end the war without further bloodshed if Byleth told him the truth. Instead, they lied to Dimitri.

“Nothing. There wasn’t anything you could have done.”  
“That was what I feared. Another pointless death that couldn’t be avoided.”  
“I wouldn’t call it pointless.” Byleth shrugged. “It takes a strong man to deny what’s in front of him. You’re compassionate, Blaiddyd. That’s why you feel guilty over killing her, but in the end, it was better for us that she died than if she had lived.”

“That’s a very pragmatic viewpoint to have, Professor.”  
“It helps me to sleep at night. Anyway, you’re fine as you are. You are compassionate. That means you’ll do well as a king.”

  
“As a king…” Dimitri looked away from Loog, to look at the Professor. “I don’t know if I can be a good king, after everything I’ve done.”  
“We’ll find out once the war is ended. There’s no point worrying about it now, Your Highness.“  
“Please. Just call me Dimitri. It feels strange for you to address me like that.”  
“Very well, Your Highness.” Byleth still stared at the statue, blank faced. Dimitri could not tell if they were kidding or not. “I will try to call you Dimitri from now on.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

It was a weird thing to think about. Dimitri, as a king. He was a murderer. He’d marched forwards for revenge, for the dead. He wasn’t capable of being a king, not after all he had done.

But the others believed in him. They had seen how he was, but they still all believed in him. Despite everything that he had done. Marianne had asked him to live. Ingrid, Raphael and Dedue had all vowed to aid him in any way they could. Sylvain had promised to guide him through negotiations with the Sreng people once the war was over. Gilbert promised to watch over him and advise him when he became King.

Dimitri hoped that he and Felix could reconcile. He hadn’t attempted to kill him again since the memorial for Rodrigue. He understood why Felix had been so angry with him, yet he also understood why Ingrid and the others didn’t understand. They had seen him grieve for Rodrigue. How he’d stayed at Felix’s bedside while they had waited for him to recover. How Gilbert had had to drag him away, to make sure he actually ate before the next day.

Felix hadn’t seen any of that happen.

“You should go and see Marianne.” Byleth interrupted his thoughts. “They’ll be wanting you to make a speech to the citizens soon.”  
“A speech?”

“Yes. So you should hurry. I need to go see Hanneman.”

Byleth quickly left, almost crashing into Manuela as she walked out of the room she had taken Marianne into. “Be careful where you’re going, Professor!” she called after them as they ran off. “Oh hello, Your Highness!”

“Professor Manuela. I am sorry about Professor Byleth-“  
“Nonsense, it’s fine. I can see you were waiting for Marianne! I just need to go find some medicine for her, so you can see her now.”

“Really, it’s fine-“  
“Go on!” Manuela manhandled him into the room with surprising strength. “Marianne, His Highness is here to see you. I’ll be back soon.” She left, the door losing behind her.

Dimitri took the time to observe the room. One of the guest rooms. If he remembered, Lonato would occupy this one in his visits to the capital. That had been a lifetime ago. Now, Marianne sat on the bed, looking at him.

“Are you well, Marianne?”

“I could be better, but I am alright. How are you, Your Highness?”

“I am well.”  
“Good.”

The silence felt awkward, for a reason Dimitri couldn’t place. Trying to distract himself from it, he walked over to where a writing desk was placed, and carefully pulled out a chair to sit on.

“What has Manuela said about the spell that Cornelia hit you with?”  
“She said it was a Hades. She and Mercedes have healed most of what it did but…” Marianne sighed, clutching her ribs where the point-blank spell had hit in the battle. “I won’t be able to fight against Lord Arundel.”  
  
“Oh.” Dimitri nodded, relieved that she was alright. “I am glad that you are okay. I was worried it might be something worse.”

“I am fine. I just need to rest for a few days because of Professor Manuela’s orders.” She frowned at her feet, and he stood up, was about to walk over to her, when she spoke again. “Your family still troubles you, doesn’t it?”

He looked at her in slack jawed surprise. How had she known?

“We were synched up, earlier. I… I heard it all.”  
  
The ghosts were real, then. Marianne had heard them too, heard the cacophony of voices that occupied his head. Glenn and Rodrigue. His mother and father. They weren’t figments of his mind.

“I am sorry, Your Highness. I know it is a private matter, and I am deeply regretful that I cannot help you with soothing them. But if there’s anything else I can do to help you; you need only ask.”

“I know. Thank you, Marianne.” Dimitri smiled for a moment, then it faded away as he sat back down. “I don’t think they will ever truly go away. But I haven’t forgotten what you told me. And I will still live. But I must ask you a selfish favour in return.

I need you to survive. You wanted me to live. But I want you to live as well, Marianne. I feel guilty over the lives I’ve taken, for the people I’ve lost. To lose you as well, after everything. I would be devastated.”

There. Now Rodrigue could shut up. He cared for him greatly, but he didn’t have the faintest idea why he had been pushing him to make her say it.

  
“I will.” Marianne smiled, even laughed a little, and Dimitri ignored the fluttering in his chest the sound of the laugh caused. He’d speak to Manuela later, find out what it was. “I must admit, when you came in here, I had hoped you would say something like that.”  
“Oh? How come, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just…” Marianne’s smile faded slightly. “It’s nothing. I’m glad you are with us, Your Highness.”  
“Thank you, Marianne.” Dimitri smiled too, watched her own smile brighten back up. “I am glad you joined us.”

The door swung open next to Dimitri, ruining the moment. “Your Highness, it is time,” Gilbert announced from outside the room. “Your people are waiting.”

His people. The ones he had abandoned, allowed Cornelia to take control and ruin while chasing down some scrap of revenge. Dimitri didn’t deserve them, much less deserve to be their king. Nevertheless, he stood up from his seat, bid Marianne farewell, and walked away with Gilbert and Jeralt.

“Byleth’s busy with Hanneman and Manuela, so they asked me to go with you,” Jeralt explained as they all marched up the castle stairs towards the royal family’s quarters.

“What will be required of me?”

“You simply need to step outside and present yourself. That is all.” Good. Dimitri hadn’t had time to prepare a speech.

The exit to the balcony lay ahead. Gilbert marched out ahead of him, but Dimitri hesitated.

Was this really right? Him becoming Faerghus’ king?

“Something wrong, Your Highness?”  
“I don’t know if it’s right. Me, as King of Faerghus.”  
“You’re not a king now. You’re at home.” Dimitri looked at Jeralt like he’d said the greatest thing in the world. “What?”  
“Nothing. Thank you, Jeralt.”  
“Tch. Come on, show those people down there you’re back.”

So he did. Dimitri walked out onto the balcony and looked out over the citizens of Fhirdiad. Of his home.

Regardless of if he was king or not, he was finally home.

…

The celebration for the return of Prince Dimitri was a lively one. Despite the low food supplies in the capital and the army, the citizens of Fhirdiad and the soldiers of the Kingdom still found a way to celebrate his return. Dimitri chose to mingle amongst his people, with Dedue and Ingrid at his side to watch over him. Though occasionally he’d depart the festivities to return to the castle, he still enjoyed his time celebrating with his people.

Felix, however, chose not to mingle. Celebrations were never his thing, and the crowd would do his job for him if the Boar broke its human mask again. So instead, he remained in the castle. He’d found a balcony somewhere which let him watch over the people, to keep an eye on the Boar. He thought he’d seen Annette and Gustave somewhere, but they had disappeared. Not like he was worried, there were a lot of people in the crowd. They’d be in there somewhere.

His eyes wandered over the people in the city, picking out the former members of his class when they appeared. Leonie was talking to Jeralt and Alois about something. Whatever they were discussing prompted Alois to say something else. Most likely a joke, given how it made the look on Jeralt’s face go from happy to annoyed faster than Ingrid’s face did whenever Raphael was being disgusting.

Ashe and Petra were dancing together. He didn’t recognise the movements; it might have been another Brigidian dance? He wasn’t sure. Didn’t look like either of them were taking their eyes off the other throughout the entire dance. Like they were the only things that mattered to each other. Maybe Sylvain was right in that something happened while they were in the Valley of Torment.

Speaking of which. Sylvain was trying to get some of the ladies to dance with him, to no success. Though that may have been because of Hapi, who’d been moving ahead of him and warning any girls she came across. He wasn’t sure what had happened there, and he didn’t really want to know what happened. Felix made a mental note to be ready to be ready to pull Sylvain out of whatever incident he was going to get himself into soon.

Byleth and Mercedes were sat on a roof of all things, watching the festivities like he was. Byleth caught him watching them. He briefly nodded a hello at them before looking away, quickly trying to find anyone else to watch. There were Ashe and Pet-

Oh.

“Felix?”

He jumped slightly. “Annette?” he asked, trying to look calm as he turned around. “I thought you’d be with your father.”  
“I was, but he had to go.” Annette walked over to stand next to him, looking out at the people below. “What are you doing here?”  
“I don’t do celebrations.” It was true, and he knew she knew it was true. He’d left the White Heron Ball after he’d danced with Annette; he’d slipped out again when Byleth returned the second time. “I came up here for some fresh air.”  
  
“You can see everyone from up here.”

He watched her for a while. She stared for a moment, flushed and quickly looked elsewhere when she too spotted Ashe and Petra holding each other close. She smiled and waved at Mercedes and Byleth. Wondered out loud what sort of jokes Alois could have been telling as Jeralt and Leonie both marched away from him in frustration.

It was nice. Not watching her, but hearing her talk, seeing her at peace. It was nice.

It was not nice when she realised he was looking at her and he had to fumble for an explanation. “I, uh, I thought I saw Ignatz painting over there.”

“That’s a tree, isn’t it?” She looked over in the direction he was pointing. “That’s a tree, Felix.”  
“Oh. So it is.”  
“Are you alright?” She turned around and frowned at him. “Maybe you need to rest.”  
“No. I’m fine.” He was fine. It was nothing anyway. “What are you thinking of doing after the war is over?”

Smooth.

“After the war is over?” she repeated, and he nodded. “I’m not sure. I was thinking of becoming a teacher and opening a school in Dominic. I enjoyed teaching Ashe. And you.” Her cheeks burned red in embarrassment as she said that, and Felix looked away awkwardly. Annette was the main reason his magic had come along so well, so he wasn’t sure why it felt weird acknowledging that. “But I’m not sure. Mercie wants to help other families. Maybe I should make the school part of an orphanage?  
  
“You never mentioned running an orphanage before.”  
“I’ve never thought about it.” Annette sighed, pushed her hair behind her ears as she spoke. “But then Mercie mentioned that she was considering it, and it made me think of what I could do to help. I want to teach, but I want to help families that were like Mercie’s. Or Ashe’s.”

It was the first he’d heard of Mercedes’ or Ashe’s families being in a position to need an orphanage. He knew Ashe and Mercedes had a rough time before they came to Garreg Mach. Didn’t Mercedes still have her mother? Felix didn’t remember her mentioning she’d lost her mother, but maybe he had been busy training when she told someone.

“What about you?”  
“Me?”  
“Yes. You’ll have to take over Fraldarius, won’t you?”

He could. Or he could leave it to his uncle. Wander around Fódlan, fight against the strongest people he could find. Leading Fraldarius was what he was supposed to do. It was always what he was supposed to do.

But that would mean continuing to pretend that the Boar was an actual human being. Not a murderer who took his family away from him. Even if it got the help it needed, if it shed the boar skin it wore and became Dimitri for the rest of its life, Felix couldn’t ever see himself forgiving it for what it had done.

“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe I’ll walk around Fódlan. I haven’t decided yet.” Felix folded his arms. “I won’t know until the war’s over.”

“Maybe that’s for the best. We haven’t ended the war yet.” Felix nodded, and Annette turned back to looking out over the crowd.

He doubted he’d be allowed in Dominic, given how Gustave seemed to be refusing to speak to him unless he had to since he’d attacked Dimitri.

Bah. It didn’t matter. They still needed to end the war first. Felix went back to watching the crowd, to watching Annette, and tried to ignore the disappointment he felt that he might not be able to see her once the war was over.


	18. Synchrosacrifice

They marched for the Alliance the next day.

Baron Dominic arrived before they could depart, bringing along the Crusher, the Relic of the Dominic family. Gustave requested that Annette take it with her, as he was staying in the capital with Jeralt and Seteth to go over the logistics of how much manpower they had over the Kingdom overall. A powerful relic in the hands of his synchropartner? Felix almost salivated at the idea of them fighting together, relics in hand, cutting down any and every enemy in their path.

He reined it in after Annette went face first into the dirt trying to practice with it. Instead, they focused on training her to use it. Hilda had been using her Relic for far longer, and Raphael had been using maces and hammers for just as long. They taught Annette how to handle it better, how to use the weight and momentum behind the weapon to manoeuvre around the battlefield. With Felix, she learned how she could use the weapon when they were synched up, how those same techniques could be applied to help her get the drop on an enemy Felix was fighting with. Synchronising came much easier to them now. Which meant they couldn’t hide their thoughts from each other very well anymore.

Felix’s obsession with her Relic bothered Annette. It was a weapon. A powerful weapon, but a weapon, nonetheless. Why was he so fascinated with it? The Bolt Axe had been fine as it was, Crusher served the same purpose but was heavier and stronger. If it was because of the history behind it, his own Falchion had more of a legacy. So why was he so interested in it?

“It’s a rare weapon,” he explained as the army made camp one night. “It’s powerful, and only you can wield it. That makes it pretty interesting.”  
  


Felix had the Falchion and the Sword of Moralta. He’d found a Sword of Zoltan that Byleth had taken to using as a back-up weapon if the Sword of the Creator was damaged. He seemed to find rare weapons all the time. Her family’s Relic just one of the Relics everyone here wielded.

She supposed she should’ve expected him to ask her to spar with him with their Relics. Felix was Felix, after all.

Meanwhile, Felix was trying to figure out what was going on in Annette’s mind. The songs still floated around, at times melding perfectly with the ones he had heard that echoed in his mind. But then there were the occasional odd thoughts. Particularly towards him.

“…I’m handsome?” he asked her one night, after synchrotraining with Ashe and Petra had finished.  
Annette had stared at him, face frozen in an aghast expression. “What?”  
“When we were synched, before. You thought I looked handsome with my hair down.”  
  
Annette had made excuses and fled, which only confused him further. He was handsome? Felix hadn’t really considered how he’d looked. He was supposed to be… what was he supposed to be again? Getting stronger? He had a partner who he could synch with perfectly, who owned a powerful Relic, while he himself had two Relics and a mythical sword. Not to mention he was the second best swordsmaster- no wait, third. Byleth, Catherine, then him- in their army. What did him being handsome have to do with him getting stronger? Why was he overthinking this?

Ingrid reassured him it was normal, which didn’t help at all. Sylvain didn’t stop cracking jokes until Byleth stomped over and glared him into being quiet. Annette was awkward for the rest of the journey. Maybe it was something to ask Captain Jeralt about, the Professor was becoming unapproachable again.

Messengers and guides directed the Kingdom’s army towards Derdriu, where Claude, Holst and Judith, the head of the Daphnel house, had decided to prepare their last stand against the remaining Dukedom forces. They witnessed the destruction Ordelia had suffered, the craters that ran across from Ordelia, the Airmid River and into Hrym that were not unlike the ones that now covered where Remire once stood. Lysithea had begged to remain behind, to go and see if her family was alright. To see if the citizens were alright.

Byleth refused. They reassured her that her family was alright but refused to let her go. They had a battle to go to, and the Alliance needed every soldier they could bring to save it.

The march continued, passing by another battlefield, this one littered with forces from Goneril as well as several decaying bandits, as well as the corpses of many people cloaked in black. Some tall, some small. Hilda asked if they could stop, if she could see what had happened. Byleth refused yet again, citing that the Alliance needed all of them now. They couldn’t stop.

They needed to get the Dukedom out of Leicester. So much had happened since they left the Alliance to support Byleth. The only way they could start to fix their territories was to help Byleth boot Lord Arundel and his forces out.

They arrived at Derdriu ready to fight. They soon saw why Byleth had brought them here so quickly. The Dukedom was baring down on them, ready to finish of the remains of the Alliance once and for all. The combined might of the Alliance forces was holding them back, as Judith and Holst led from the front and Claude directed from the back.

Byleth and the Kingdom were behind the Dukedom forces, fresh and ready to fight. The Dukedom’s forces were tired. They had been campaigning against the Alliance for weeks now and had been worn down by the fighting in the territories.

The retribution they faced from the Kingdom, and the rallied forces of the Alliance wiped them all out in their entirety. Felix and Annette separated from the group on Byleth’s orders. They moved to the Eastern part of Derdriu and waited.

Lord Arundel broke away from his army and tried to run. They didn’t know where he could have run too, but they blasted the ground in front of him with magic, knocked him and his horse down. With nowhere to run, and nowhere for him to hide, they walked up to him, calm, ready to bring an end to the Dukedom, once and for all.

“Lord Arundel?”

“Fraldarius. And Dominic, too. You have betrayed the Kingdom, betrayed your families. And for what? The Goddess? That murderer of a prince?” Lord Arundel dismounted from his horse, pulled a sword from its armour. “You know your Professor killed a great many of my people.”

“We’ve never set foot in your territory. Don’t blame us for your own failures.”

“And what of yours? Your brother, your father, they both died like true knights.” Felix glared at him, tightened his grip on Falchion. “Yet here you stand against me. A traitor to the Kingdom.”

“We’re not the traitors here, Arundel.” Annette stood by Felix’s side; Crusher held over her shoulder. “You are the one who betrayed the Kingdom by siding with the Empire!”

“And you two are mere children! You two would not understand the truth if it burned its way into your mind!” Arundel paused, took a breath. Gripped his sword. “But it doesn’t matter. Starting today, we will have our vengeance against the Goddess!”

Arundel charged forwards, sword in one hand, Hades in the other, and Annette and Felix synched up. No words were necessary. Felix met him with a Thoron and Falchion, Annette slipped behind him with an Excalibur and Crusher.

Something flickered to life behind Arundel, and Annette’s spell was absorbed, rendered harmless. He parried away Felix’s blow, spun around easily to catch the descending blow of Crusher. “How predictable.” He threw the head of Crusher skywards and slashed at Annette, forcing her back. “Did the Professor truly teach you nothing?”

“They taught us well.” A Thoron and Excalibur were launched at the same time, and whatever new trick Arundel had couldn’t absorb both at once. He didn’t yell, or scream, rather he shrugged off the attacks like they were nothing. Magic wouldn’t work. They came to the same conclusion. Sword and Axe would have to be the way to go.

Felix switched Falchion for the Sword of Moralta, and Annette pulled her dagger free. Neither moved at first, instead circling Arundel as he turned, trying to decide which was the more dangerous of the two.

Annette struck first, her wind magic driving the dagger to slice across Arundel’s arm. Not deep, but enough to cause him to bleed. Felix parried the dagger skywards, caught it and launched it towards Arundel’s heart. He sidestepped, not enough to avoid it, but enough so it lodged into his shoulder instead of his chest. He switched his sword to his right hand and rushed Felix, a flurry of rapid strikes that Felix blocked, that he let push him back.

Where were the rest of their forces? Where was the Boar? Felix didn’t know, and neither did Annette. They focussed on the goal, to defeat and kill the enemy in front of them. Even down one arm, Arundel fought with the desperation of a cornered rat, the fury of a grieving warrior. He would’ve been a match for Felix, a match for even Glenn, if not for Annette.

Annette, who had cast rallying magic on them both to make them fast enough to keep up with Arundel. Annette, who managed to push Arundel away from him, who slowed him down with a Crusher strike to the foot. Arundel hobbled backwards, and Annette sped around him, driving the flat of her Relic into his back and knocking him to the floor. Felix moved over him, turned him over so he could see his face and raised the sword above him, prepared to drive it through Arundel’s head.

Arundel took the cheap option. He kicked Felix between the legs and scrambled away, yanked the dagger free of his shoulder. Annette saw where the battle was going. She saw how it was going to end. Of her own free will, knowing what would happen, Annette pushed Felix away, out of the path of the dagger he’d gifted to her. She felt the dagger plunge into her back, felt her body go numb, saw her legs collapse out from under her.

Annette fell, and Felix saw her go down. He saw Glenn’s ghost fall with her. He saw his father fall with her. He was going to lose someone else against this damn Empire. Glenn. The Boar. His father. Now Annette. He felt her fall out of sync with him. Arundel gave out a shout of pain as he hobbled to his feet, and even if Annette’s spell wasn’t still affecting him, he would have moved fast enough anyway.

Falchion plunged itself into Arundel’s eye, and Felix ran to Annette. The blood hadn’t pooled far yet, but the way the dagger was lodged in her back… He turned her over, a pained groan sparking some hope in him. “Annette!”

“Felix?”

“I’m here. Arundel’s dead. Get up, someone should be nearby.”

“Felix.”

“Come on, Annette.”

“Felix, I can’t move.” He froze. Looked at where the dagger was protruding from.

He wasn’t a healer, and he cursed himself for never learning any healing magic. Annette was paralyzed, she needed help because of him, and he couldn’t help her.

“I’m sorry, Annette.”

“There’s a concoction in my satchel. Can you get it out?”

“A con-right.” She was prepared. A concoction wouldn’t get her moving straight away, but it would heal the wounds enough for the time being. He grabbed the satchel, rifled through it as quick as he could. At the bottom, under a spare batch of bandages, was a concoction. He pulled it out. “Now what?”

“You need to get the dagger out.”

“What? No! You’ll bleed out!” Felix shook his head frantically. He’d been dead when his father died. He was alive now, and he was going to make sure she stayed alive too. The siren had sacrificed herself for Pan. He would make sure history did not repeat itself. “I’m not going to lose you too, Annette.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Felix, I promise. But listen to me. I need you to do two things so that it can heal enough for me to recover when we find the others.”

“Okay. Tell me what to do, Annette.”

She didn’t answer for a moment, and Felix feared the worst. Was she just talking to calm him down before she passed on? “You need to give me the concoction. Then you need to pull the dagger out and put pressure on it as soon as you do. You need to do it quickly, Felix. Promise me.”

“I promise, Annette.” He’d worship the Goddess every day if it meant he didn’t lose someone else. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Good.” She nodded, and Felix turned his attention to uncorking the concoction. He brought it to her lips, tried to pour it into her mouth.

It spilled onto her dress, and he quickly pulled it away. Why were his damn hands so shaky? Why now, of all the times? She might never walk again if he didn’t hurry! “I’m sorry Annette, I don’t know why-“

“It’s alright, Felix. It’s alright.” Why was she blushing? He was supposed to be helping her and he was wasting medicine by making such a childish mistake! “Um… Flames, I’m so sorry, but…”

“What? Is it too late?”

“No, it’s fine, everything’s fine, Felix.” She smiled at him. “But, um… you might have to do this another way. If your hands can’t stay steady…” What was so embarrassing about this to her? “…I need you to give me it by mouth.”

“That’s what I was trying to do.”

“I know.” She let out a shaky sigh. “I mean, you’ll need to put your mouth on mine and give me it that way.”

“Mouth to mouth?”

“Yes, but-“

“Alright, I’ll do it.” If it kept her alive, he’d do it. He quickly picked up the bottle of concoction. “Just tell me when.”

Annette took a moment, focussing on calming her breathing because despite everything, her mind was mortified by the turn of events. It was the only way since Felix’s hands would spill everything before she could drink it, but it was still embarrassing to think about how his lips would feel on hers. “Once you give me it, pull the dagger out after I’ve swallowed it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Do it.”

Felix took a swig of the concoction, as much as he could, and swiftly closed the distance between them. He briefly registered her lips moving against his but dismissed it as her making sure she got all the medicine.

Annette swallowed the concoction, and Felix quickly moved onto the dagger, pulling it free quickly and easily, wincing and muttering apologies as Annette screamed next to him. He threw it away, pushed his hand down on her back as hard as he could, trying not to panic as crimson blossomed across the back of her dress. His other arm wrapped around her, held her close as he repeated to himself that she would be fine, that she’d be alright, that the others would reach them soon.

The blossom was slowing down, and he could hear her breathing returning from how ragged it was back to its regular pace, even though his heartbeat was loud enough that even the ghosts could hear it.

He didn’t move until she spoke again. “We can go. It should hold until we get to Mercie.”

“Are you sure?” If they did this wrong the wound could get agitated, or it could hurt her even more or-  
“I’m sure. I need a healer quickly or I’m going to stay like this forever.”  
“Alright.” Slow and steady. He pulled her arm around his neck and hauled her over his shoulders, held her legs and grabbed her arm with one hand to keep her balanced and secure, just like his father had taught him. He didn’t see how she looked away in embarrassment. Instead he looked at Falchion, still buried in Arundel’s head.

He’d come back later. Annette was more important than a sword. “Let’s get you to Mercedes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yeah, that bit with Arundel and Falchion was meant to mirror that scene from Modern Warfare 2 with General Shepard and Soap, just with someone else getting stabbed instead.
> 
> Ten chapters to go until the fic's done.


	19. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder what the chapter title's referring too...?

They’d found Mercedes quickly, and the rest of the army. Annette was moved into one of the houses, placed on someone’s bed. They didn’t know who it belonged to, but they borrowed it anyway. Mercedes and Manuela set to work healing her, seeing how bad the damage was.

“That was some clever thinking, Annette,” Manuela told her when she explained how they’d used the concoction to immediately heal the worst of the damage. “Let’s hope it’s enough to get you back on your feet.”

Mercedes gave him what seemed like a knowing look when he explained how they had given Annette the concoction. It made him feel uncomfortable, like she knew something he didn’t. It was the only way she could have taken the medicine in her state, there was nothing weird about it. Was there? It was her idea!

Felix stayed by Annette’s side, helping Manuela and Mercedes wherever he could to make sure Annette was comfortable, that she would be alright. His mistake had gotten her hurt, the least he could do was help her to recover. She told him not to blame himself for it, that she had chosen to do it, but that didn’t change a damn thing. He hadn’t been good enough to protect her. He still had a long way to go.

Byleth came by to see them, understandably furious at the fact one of them had gotten hurt. Felix didn’t blame them. They were their students; they had been the first to master the Synkroniseret Kamp. They were supposed to be the best at this.

“What happened?”  
“Lord Arundel surprised Felix.” Why was Annette trying to cover for him? His own arrogance that he was better was what had gotten her hurt! “It was either this or Felix would have died.”

“And Lord Arundel? Is he dead?”  
“Yes. I stabbed him with Falchion.”  
“And you left it behind?!” Byleth glared at him with murder in their eyes. “Felix, that sword is one of a kind!”

“I know. But Annette was hurt.”  
“You could have taken her and the sword, couldn’t you?” Why was the Professor getting so worked up? Falchion was just a sword. Annette was more important than a sword. “Where did you leave it?  
  
“In Arundel’s head. It’ll be where you ordered us to go, Professor.”  
“Pray to the Goddess that it still is.” Byleth departed soon after, leaving Felix and Annette equally confused. Did the Professor care more about a weapon than Annette’s well-being now? Yes, Falchion was one of a kind, but so was Annette.

Goddess above, he was thankful they weren’t synched. That sounded like one of Sylvain’s pick-up lines.

Manuela and Mercedes left after the sun went down. They’d done a great job of healing the damage, but there would always be a scar on her back from where the dagger had gone in. In the best-case scenario, she wouldn’t ever be able to move as quickly as she used to. Manuela would come around tomorrow to test Annette’s nerves, see if she was able to move any better. She could move her fingers and toes at least, so that was a good sign.

Felix stayed with her through the night. She tried to tell him to leave, to go and rest but he refused. She’d gotten hurt protecting him, the least he could do was stay with her in case she needed anything. He could sleep anywhere.

So they spoke for a while. Felix apologised again for getting Annette hurt, she reassured him she didn’t blame him. They discussed what Manuela had told them. Claude had departed, turning the Failnaught over to the Professor. Lorenz had also left the army as well, heading back to Gloucester to help Holst and Judith figure out the state of the Alliance and what forces they could commit to aid the Kingdom in the next battle against the Empire.

Lysithea had remained with them, reluctantly. Mercedes had mentioned she had been torn between heading back home and staying with them, but had ultimately chosen to remain, trusting Holst when he had told her that her people were fine. Annette sympathised with her. And for the first time, Felix did too.

He hoped Ordelia was alright. They hadn’t seen any of their forces on their journey here.

Annette drifted off to sleep after a while. The only sounds that filled the room were her light snores as she slept. Felix stayed next to her, keeping a vigil throughout the night. He figured it was the least he could do.

Someone let themselves in after a while, and he primed the Moralta, ready to protect Annette from this potential threat.

“At least you can do one thing right, Felix.”  
  
The Professor. Felix relaxed his sword arm, even as he got a whiff of dried blood and alcohol from their direction.

“Come on. I need to speak with you. Annette isn’t going anywhere.”

Reluctantly, he got up, patting the bed she was sleeping on for a reason he couldn’t quite figure out. Byleth led him out of the house, to stand under the stars outside.

“What happened?”  
“I got overconfident. I didn’t immediately go for the kill, and Lord Arundel did. If Annette hadn’t been there, he’d have killed me.”  
“So you’re dead.”  
“No. Arundel’s dead.”  
“Only because Annette was willing to take the blow for you.” Byleth took a swig of a flask -where had they got it from? - and continued. “Now you’re another casualty in this war. And why? Because you thought you were strong? Remind me why you’re fighting?”

Why was Felix fighting? It was to get stronger, wasn’t it?

“To… get stronger.” Felix crossed his arms defensively. “To be stronger than Glenn.”  
“I thought Dimitri was nuts.” Byleth swigged the flask again. “If you’re trying to become stronger than a dead man, then any strength is strong enough. The dead can’t do anything, and you can’t bring him back. So why, Felix?” He couldn’t answer, and Byleth asked again. “Why, Felix? Why are you fighting? Are you trying to protect something? Are you fighting to end the war?” Byleth stopped for a moment. Smiled evilly. “Or is it that you like fighting? That you’re more of a monster than His Highness?”

“No. I am not as bad as the Boar.”  
Byleth’s smile vanished. “The Boar didn’t try to kill his friends, Fraldarius. You’re not as bad as he is, you’re worse. You know he visited you every day while you were recovering, right? He was in there so often Gilbert had to sit in with you just so he would go and eat. Same with Annette. She wouldn’t leave you alone after she healed you.”

Felix tried to remember. Had she been there all that time? There was still a giant blank space in his memories, between leaving the Monastery for Gronder Field and waking up with Annette beside him. Had the Boar come to visit?

“Did you ever ask? Or did you just decide to kill him over someone who died thinking you hated him?”

“I didn’t hate him I-“

“That’s what I thought.” Byleth shook their head in disappointment. “I expected better from you. You’re a great soldier, but a shit human being. Dimitri is by the sea. Go and see him.”  
“But Annette-“  
“I’ll stay with Annette. You need to sort things out with Dimitri. I’m trusting you to do the right thing, Felix.” Byleth shoved past him, taking the Moralta from his hands and marching into the house Annette was sleeping in.

With no other choice in the matter, Felix walked in the direction he thought the sea would be in. Fortunately, his sense of direction was still working, so he found his way there quickly. The area stank of more dried blood, along with some sea air that ruffled some memories from his childhood. The Alliance had lost some forces here, near the boats. But they’d survived, and they’d crushed the Dukedom’s forces.

Felix found Dimitri looking out over the sea. Dedue was next to him and turned to look at him as he approached. “The Professor sent me. I need to speak with the B- His Highness.”  
  
“The Professor mentioned you would be along shortly. Very well. Please understand that for the safety of His Highness, I will have to stand between you and him.” Dedue moved towards Dimitri, gesturing to Felix to stand next to him. Felix walked over to where Dedue had been stood. Looked out over the sea next to him. He wouldn’t be the one to start this conversation.

He couldn’t see anything. There was no breeze, but the smell of the ocean was even stronger here, unsurprisingly. It shook loose a memory of his childhood. When he, Glenn, Ingrid, Sylvain and Dimitri had come to Derdriu and had been brought to the seaside by his father and Dimitri’s mother, while Lambert had gone to discuss politics with the Round Table. They’d tried to fish. Glenn had opted to spear fish from the water, always amazing them with every successful catch. It had been one of the rare times Glenn had smiled and laughed. Felix had tried to copy him, but had fallen in. They’d gotten soaked trying to pull him back out.

That had to have been 15 years ago now. Flames.

“Felix. Please understand, when I told the Professor I wished we could talk, I didn’t mean for them to send you here now.”  
“It’s too late now. They’re with Annette. I can’t go back.”  
“Oh.” The gentle lapping of the ocean was the only sounds around them. “How is she?”  
“She can move.”  
“Good.” The silence returned, even more awkward than before.

Felix decided to bite the bullet and ask. “The Professor said that you came to visit me when I was recovering.”  
“I did. Many times. But if this is about your actions, I cannot fault you for your reaction. You were right, Felix. If I hadn’t rushed ahead, if I hadn’t run after Edelgard, Rodrigue would still be alive.”

Knowing how he felt about Annette getting hurt, about how preventable that injury had been… something finally clicked in Felix’s head.

All along, the Boar-no, Dimitri, the Boar was a monster- had felt guilty for his actions, for what he had done. Felix had believed that the Boar didn’t care, because it didn’t, no matter how many people it butchered and got killed on its quest for revenge. That Dimitri had been consumed by the Boar, that the Boar had taken to wearing Dimitri’s skin after Duscur.

The Boar and Dimitri were one and the same. The same person who’d cut down hundreds of soldiers with glee, and the quiet, mournful being who still spoke to him, despite knowing that Felix wanted to kill him were one and the same. It felt like staring into a puddle of sorts. His friend, and the monster that wanted to rush for Enbarr. Were their motivations the same?

“Why?”  
“Pardon?”  
“Why did you chase after her?”  
“Because I wanted revenge. I wanted Glenn’s ghost to be at peace, along with the ghosts of my parents. I believed that their regret fell to me, their desires for revenge fell to me.”

“They don’t want revenge.” No. He wanted to defeat Glenn. Dimitri wanted to avenge him. They were different after all. “They’re dead, Dimitri.”  
“I know. But I cannot shake their ghosts from me. Even Marianne has heard them, while we were fighting together.”

Marianne had heard them? Then all the times he’d doubted Dimitri’s claims of hearing Glenn, dismissed him when Dimitri claimed he could see him, could they all be true as well?

“Rodrigue and Marianne, they helped me come off that path. I want to make up for everything that I’ve done. Even if it costs me my life.”  
“Don’t.” Felix finally turned to glare at Dimitri. “If you die too then everything will be for nothing.”  
“But if killing me would bring you peace-“  
“It wouldn’t. Killing you would never bring me peace.” And it wouldn’t. If he had killed the Boar, even for the safety of the others, Felix would regret killing it for the rest of his life. “I am not some ghost in your head, and I will never be some ghost in your head. I don’t care what Glenn, or my father, or your parents think. If you want to make up for everything you’ve done, you make up for it by living.”

Perhaps that came off a little more concerned than he intended. Felix didn’t care. He’d lost his entire family, he’d almost lost Annette because of his arrogance. He wasn’t letting Dimitri die too.

Dimitri stared at him for a while, dumbfounded by his response. Felix turned away, looked out over the ocean once more. “What did Marianne tell you?”  
“How do you know about-“  
“She believed that you were still there somewhere beneath the Boar. What did she tell you?”

“She asked me to live.”  
“Then why aren’t you doing that? Do you need me to swing a sword at you again?”

“No.” Out of the corner of his eye, Felix saw Dimitri smile a little. “I don’t need you to do that. Thank you, Felix.”  
“For what? I didn’t do anything.”  
“You did. And thank you.”  
“Tch. You can thank me by not getting yourself killed.”

Dimitri sighed. “I’ll try not to. I just wish the same could be said for the enemy forces.”  
“Why? They were with Arundel.”  
“They were still our people, though. Citizens of the Kingdom, who were following Arundel’s orders.”  
“Did they not surrender?”  
“They did.” Dimitri shuddered, but not from the cold. “The Professor killed them all anyway. Said they were traitors to the Kingdom for fighting against me.”

That wasn’t Byleth’s place to decide. Dimitri was the Prince; he should have had the final say. Felix looked at him again. “Everyone just let them do it?”  
“They did. It felt like Duscur all over again. Without Jeralt or Seteth for anyone else to turn to, no one wanted to go against their orders.”

“Not even you?”  
Dimitri shrunk into himself, almost as though he was afraid. He stared down at the ocean beneath them. “I tried.”

“Then you didn’t try hard enough.” No malice. No anger behind it. A simple statement of fact, to the man who was supposed to be his future King.

Felix left Dimitri after that, storming back over to where Annette had been left. He was furious. Disgusted. And worried about Dimitri. Byleth was their commander, they gave the orders on the battlefield. But this? This wasn’t a battlefield. Those soldiers had surrendered, Dimitri had wanted to spare them. What had Byleth done, or said, to make him cower like that? Dimitri didn’t cower when he’d nearly killed him, so what had the Professor done?

Byleth was leaving the house as he approached. “What did you do to Dimitri?”  
  
“What do you care, Fraldarius? You wanted to kill him.”

“No. I didn’t want to kill him. But you killed all those soldiers for no reason!”

“I didn’t. We don’t have the supplies to take them back as prisoners and they were fighting against us. I gave them mercy, instead of leaving them for the citizens to kill.”  
“They were our countrymen.” Felix angrily yanked the Moralta and the Falchion back from them. “The Alliance could have provided us with supplies for them. Who do you think you are, Professor?”  
“Your countrymen. And not even yours, you’re not planning to become Duke of Fraldarius are you? You just want to defeat a ghost.” Byleth sniggered to themself as they stumbled away, drinking from their flask still. “Defeat a ghost. Defeat a dead person! Hah! He’d win every time because a corpse can’t fight back!”

Felix stomped back inside and returned to his seat besides Annette, who was still asleep, thankfully. He tuned out the Professor’s quieting chatter as they walked away, seethed and stewed in his thoughts for a while. Who did they think they were, talking about Glenn so lowly? Glenn was a thousand times better than the Professor!  
  


_“You’re not planning to become Duke of Fraldarius are you? You just want to defeat a ghost.”_

  
Maybe before, he hadn’t considered it. But now? He looked at Annette, still lost to the world in her dreams. She wouldn’t end up taking over her territory, would she? Her uncle was still running the territory and was rather young. Not much older than Mercedes was. She’d been ecstatic before they’d departed for Leicester, talking about how she’d made her father promise to come home to her mother with her. How she already had a few ideas for names for the school she wanted to open in Dominic.

But him? He didn’t know what he wanted to do. He’d carved his own path through this war; he and Annette had mastered the art of Synkroniseret Kamp. He’d convinced himself to do all of this just to prove he was stronger than Glenn. But who was he proving this to? Himself? Even if he ever got that strong, what would he do then? Seek out other people to fight? While there were people like the Professor running around? Felix was supposed to respect his commander, his Professor. But a commander earned the respect of their soldiers. Byleth had lost his respect by killing those prisoners. War was war, but you don’t slaughter people for picking the wrong side if they surrendered to you.

It wasn’t enough. Despite everything, Glenn had had a goal. He’d wanted to be a knight. To protect his King. His father had wanted him to take over Fraldarius once he passed. To protect their people.

He could never see himself becoming a knight now. Not after everything. So maybe he should run Fraldarius instead, like his father had intended. Maybe he could convince Annette to set up her school in Fraldarius instead. Then he could look after his countrymen and Annette, protect them from people like the Professor. Like Arundel.

He doubted Gustave would agree. But it was Annette’s choice in the end. He’d take over Fraldarius and offer her the chance to set up her school in Fraldarius territory. If she agreed, then they’d be able to see each other more. Maybe she wouldn’t mind teaching him to sing. He’d never been any good at it or singing with others. But if he’d learned one thing from the Professor, it was that he could always try to learn new things.

A part of him seemed happy with that, and he let his anger at the Professor fade as he hummed one of her songs to himself. He drifted off at some point, at least before the sun began to rise.

He swore he heard her humming too as he fell asleep.


	20. A Chance to Breathe

Annette was moving a bit more when Manuela and Mercedes came by to check on her in the morning. She’d need a month to recover fully from the injury, longer still to move somewhat normally again. After he woke up from his nap, Felix volunteered himself to look after her while she recovered, to make sure she didn’t overdo it while her back healed.

He was thankful that she hadn’t been badly hurt. He was thankful she didn’t refuse his help. He needed a distraction from last night, from what Byleth had said.

_“You’re not as bad as he is, you’re worse.”_

He was the worse one? With what Dimitri had said last night, how Annette had constantly told him that Dimitri wanted to do better, how he had understood why he’d done what he did… it made sense. Dimitri was the one trying to do right by the people he’d hurt. Felix?

Helping Annette along had been the only thing he’d done for those he’d hurt. Dimitri had been willing to let him kill him if it made up for getting his father killed. He couldn’t even speak to him without getting angry.

“Hey, Felix?”  
  


He came back from his thoughts at the sound of Annette’s voice, who had a curious look on her face. “You’re staring.”  
“Oh.” Felix looked elsewhere, hoping his embarrassment didn’t show. “I was thinking about the sea. You can smell it, even from here.”  
  
They’d gone into the Derdriu for a while. They’d be marching back to Garreg Mach tonight, to find out where they were going next. Jeralt, Seteth and Gustave were already heading there from Fhirdiad, and would meet up with them once they arrived. Felix wasn’t particularly looking forward to that reunion, taking advantage of their trip into the city to distract himself. Gustave was not going to be happy when he found out why Annette was hurt.

“Have you been in the sea before?”

“Once. When I was a kid. I didn’t enjoy it much.”  
“Oh?”  
“It’s all salty. You can’t drink it if you’re thirsty.”  
“The sea is salty?” Annette frowned, tapped her chin as she thought. Her mobility wasn’t too badly hindered by her injury, but walking around was painful, unsurprisingly. “I wonder if I can use it to flavour soup?  
“It’d ruin the taste, wouldn’t it?”  
“How? If it’s salty, then you don’t need to add salt to it.”  
“Just don’t.” Felix shuddered at the memory of trying to drink salt water. “It’s really, really bad.”  
“Alright Felix, I won’t.” Annette tried to stand. Her legs refused to work right, and she fell back down and winced in pain. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just, Felix-“  
“I know. I’ve got you.” Felix easily helped her up from the seats they were sat on, missing Annette’s embarrassed blush as he turned to scan the area around them. “The port should have a good view of the ocean.”

On they hobbled. Felix slowed down to ensure Annette didn’t try to rush off, making sure she went nice and slow, as per Manuela’s orders. For someone who couldn’t move three days ago, Annette was determined to make up for her time spent resting by exploring the city.

Felix was just glad for the distraction.

His sense of direction guided them towards the port, but away from where the stench of blood had come from yesterday. Dimitri was nowhere to be found, but they did spot Ashe and Petra swimming together in one of the canals. They met Caspar on his way to find Hilda, something to do with luggage? Which made Felix grateful Annette travelled light. He’d just need to carry Crusher back to the Monastery instead of… whatever else Hilda brought with her. Freikugel couldn’t be too heavy for her to carry, right?

When they’d asked Sylvain about it on their travels, he’d just smirked and told them not to worry about it.

They arrived at the port not long after. In the sunlight, the waves shimmered and sparkled as they gently lapped against the beach. It sort of looked like how it did when he was younger? But also a lot less blue. He wasn’t sure why.

“You’re right. This is a good view.” Annette paused, watched the waves in the water for a moment. “It’s so pretty…”

It was. He could admit that. Felix looked out over the sea with her. He wondered for a moment, what it would feel like to swim under the ocean. It was never something he’d gotten to do, as dedicated to his training as he was. He could ask Ashe about it later, he supposed but hearing about it wouldn’t be the same.

He looked to Annette, to ask her something, when he noticed something else.

The sunlight really brought out the blue in her eyes. Made them stand out in a neat way.

Annette caught him staring again. This time he had no excuse. “Is everything okay, Felix?”  
“Uh… your eyes are really cool.”  
  


Goddess above, did he really just say that? Felix recoiled like she’d struck him, turned away to look up at the birds above. Big white birds, they flapped, and they squawked. Didn’t make a fool of themselves staring at pretty things.

Now he’d just called Annette pretty. What was wrong with him?

“Um… thank you, Felix?” Annette sounded surprised, which wasn’t a surprise. Since when did he compliment people’s eyes? Next, he’d be using another one of Sylvain’s lines.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Oh.” Now he’d made her sad.

“No, it’s-argh, forget it.” He could ask about the whole school thing once the war was over. Making plans this early would make everything weird.

Granted, it was Annette. It wasn’t just her eyes that were cool, her songs were nice. Her voice worked well for the songs she sang. What was it he’d thought before? That the earnestness of her singing her songs were what made her great? That might be it. He wasn’t sure. He definitely enjoyed her singing, even if she was embarrassed about it. Wouldn’t mind hearing her sing more. And dance, her dancing was adorable, if not all over the place-

Seriously. What was wrong with him today?

Annette still watched the ocean, oblivious to Felix's internal meltdown next to her. The complement on her eyes raised her spirits slightly, even if Felix was being mean and embarrassed about it. She didn’t mind. It was rare for Felix to compliment anything, usually he just mocked stuff. Like her dancing. She still remembered how he had compared it to fencing footwork, like she was supposed to be a fencer or something. She was a mage, and she was having fun. She didn’t want her dancing being analyzed. Not like Felix was a much better dancer.

She wondered what he was thinking. Was the sea not interesting to him? He was watching the birds above with such intense scrutiny, like they had done something to personally offend him. Nothing she was doing was synching with him, so she didn’t have any idea what was bothering him.

Oh well. She was sure he was fine.

“Felix?” He jumped. That made her frown. “Are you sure you’re okay?”  
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He was not fine. “We should get going. I want to go to the markets before we leave.”

Ever on the hunt for more swords. Annette smiled and nodded, at least that was normal for him. “Alright. Let’s find the markets.”

It took a while for them to get there, even longer as Felix got distracted looking at something that was on a roof. Then he got distracted again by a cat. Annette couldn’t remember the species off the top of her head, but it made him stop and stare. He didn’t move, even as it came up to him and looked up at him. Sensing something she couldn’t, it settled for rubbing it’s head on him and walking off.

“Cats,” was all he said before they set off again.

The market was packed, filled with people selling their wares. Some of things being sold looked like they’d been freshly pried from the fallen combatants of the last battle. Iron swords dented but clean. Axes and bows, chipped and with wear and tear all over them. Arundel must have been pushing them to keep going after the Alliance.

Annette hoped the Alliance would recover from this. She hadn’t interacted with Lorenz at all, really, but these people deserved to be able to recover from the war. First the Empire had attacked them, then the Dukedom had. She hoped Lorenz, Judith and Holst would be able to save their people. She wanted to come back here, once the war was over, and see the sights the Alliance had to offer. To help people however she could.

Something that looked suspiciously like the remnants of a letter fluttered down by her feet, joined by several more fragments of letters. Before she could reach down to grab at them, the wind picked up once more. The fragments blew away, far from her reach, slowly followed by a stream of more fragments. She watched them drift by, looked towards the source of them. The Professor was walking away on a nearby rooftop, tossing a few more pieces of a letter from their hands as they went. Annette glared at the back of the Professor’s head. Watched the remnants land in some poor stall owner’s soup. Since when was the Professor so messy?

She felt something tighten around her hand. It was warm. Rough and calloused. She looked down, surprised to see Felix holding onto her hand. Warmth spread up her arm with a trail of goose bumps and she felt herself becoming embarrassed. But why? He was just keeping hold of her because they were in a crowd, wasn’t he?

No. No they weren’t, they’d left the crowd behind. Why was he holding onto her like that then? Just to embarrass her? She was hurt, but she could look after herself! “Felix, what are you doing?”  
“Nothing.” He was looking at some swords. The same swords she’d noticed before. “I’m just looking.”  
“You don’t need to hold onto me.”  
“Hm?” Felix looked away from the swords, down at their entwined hands. “I wasn’t.”

“Yes you were.”  
“I wasn’t. You latched on to me.”  
“No I did not. You’re the one fussing over me, Felix.”

“I’m not fussing over you.”  
“Really? Because I’m sure-“  
“If you two would like to move on?” The merchant interrupted their growing argument with a very unimpressed sigh. “I want to sell some of this before sundown.”

  
“Alright.” Annette tugged Felix away, making a conscious effort to ignore how baffled Felix looked and how nice his hand felt in hers. “I’m sure you’re the one fussing over me.”  
“You’re still hurt, Annette.”

“I’m fine, Felix. Really. You don’t need to cling onto me.”  
  
He really wasn’t clinging onto her. They’d nearly gotten separated in the crowd, he’d taken her hand to keep her with him. That was all. He hadn’t let go because when he tried, she’d gripped onto his hand even more tightly. Which in of itself was strange but-

Argh. Why was he arguing with her over? It was stupid. “I wasn’t clinging onto you,” he insisted, but he let go, almost regretfully.

Annette missed the warmth immediately but decided to leave it. Whatever it was, she could ask Mercie about it later. “Thank you, Felix. Where else is there?”  
“I don’t know. I only went here and to the port.”

“We shouldn’t go too much farther then. We still need to find our way back to the camp before sundown. But let’s see what else there is!”  
  


Annette tried to run off out of the market. Having forgotten that she was still recovering, her legs didn’t go at the right moment, and her face met the ground again. Felix was already by her side helping her back up when she realised what had happened.

“Remember what Manuela said?”  
“Yes, Felix. I remember.” Flames, this was embarrassing. She wiped the mud off her face somewhat quickly. “Let’s see what else there is, but slowly.”

“Right. Slowly.”

Somehow he doubted she’d remember to go slowly once they’d gotten out of the market.

…

She did not. She did, however, learn to slow down on the march back to Garreg Mach. It was either that or she rode in the carriage with the wounded, and Annette absolutely refused to take up space when she could walk just fine. Felix remained by her side, without ever being ordered to. The march back gave him time to think. Time to consider his stance going forward.

The Boar-no, Dimitri. Dimitri had wanted to oppose Byleth’s orders, but something Byleth had done had made him back down. Made him afraid. Felix didn’t know what it was, but it made him wary. He was the last person the army expected to take Dimitri’s side. For all his complaints, he had never directly tried to ask people to help when Dimitri had needed help. Nor had he ever attempted to help. He’d believed him to be a lost cause.

But he’d regained his human form. The Boar still poked out, every now and then. But Dimitri, the one he believed dead, was mostly in control now. All without his help. So perhaps now was the time to help. Back Dimitri up against the Professor, the next time they tried to go against or ignore his orders.

Byleth was their professor. Their commander. But Dimitri was the Prince, the future king. And Felix’s friend. He wasn’t the Shield of the King, like his father had been. But maybe he could be something else. The fire under Dimitri’s cloak, forcing him to stand tall. To be a man, rather than a monster. Felix had been a soldier first. But this war couldn’t last much longer, he needed to find something else to do. Taking over Fraldarius was one thing he could do. Making sure Dimitri was a good king was another.

They arrived at Garreg Mach. Annette, unwilling or unable to lie to her father, told Gustave the truth. His reaction was… not as bad as Felix had been expecting. He’d be accompanying Dimitri from here on out, and he wanted Annette to stay close to him. Because of their status as synchropartners, that meant Felix also had to stay nearby. Annette’s injury earned him Gustave’s ire, and he was ready to take the full force of his anger for letting Annette get hurt in battle.

It never came. Or at least, it never came as badly as he was expecting.

Two weeks had passed since they’d come back to Garreg Mach. He’d settled back into his old training routine, and Annette had joined him for some “light” sparring to help her stay sharp while she recovered. With them both favouring their Relics now, the sparring never stayed light, and Felix frequently had to cut the spars short to ensure she didn’t overdo it. She was moving a lot better, though. That was good.

He felt, rather than heard, someone else walking into the training room. Heavy, determined steps, accompanied by the light rustling of the armour worn by a falcon knight. Ingrid.

“Hey, Felix.” If the sound of her entering didn’t give her away, her voice did. “Gilbert is looking for you.”

“Gilbert?” He shared a look with Annette, who seemed to be just as confused as he was. “Is this about the next battle?”

“No. It’s…” He didn’t like how Ingrid was frowning. “You’d better go see him. He was adamant about speaking with you.”

“Fine.” He set down the training sword, nodding to Annette to do the same. “Where is he?”  
“He’s outside your room.” Ingrid walked over to the practice dummies he’d just been using, picked up a training lance as he left.

Sylvain passed along the same message as he walked towards the dorms. Annette separated from him to head into her room, after asking him to seek her out tomorrow to help her make something in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure how much use he could be, but he agreed.

Gustave was waiting for him as he reached his room, face set with grim determination, not an unusual sight for him but a rare one outside of battle. “Ah, Felix. There you are.”  
  
“Gu-Gilbert,” he corrected himself. “Ingrid said you wanted to speak to me.”

“I do. May we speak in your room?”

Something twigged in the back of Felix’s mind. A memory of Sylvain, when they were 13, getting lectured by Ingrid and Glenn because of something he’d said to a girl’s father. The father had spoken to Sylvain about something, Sylvain had said something wrong, and he’d almost started a conflict between one of the neighbouring territories and Gautier.

What was it they’d spoken about? The girl?

“Felix.”

“Is this about Annette?”

“Yes.”

Of course it was. He’d let her get injured on his watch, so now he thought he needed a reminder of his duty in battle. Felix nodded, held his tongue and opened the door to his room, before sitting down on the bed and waiting for Gustave to begin.

“I know the Professor asked you to work with Annette. I know she values you as a soldier, and as a friend. But even with my duties to Lambert, and to Dimitri, I haven’t missed how close you two have become.”  
  


“Close?”

“You spar with her constantly. She never wanted to spar with me outside of training sessions when she was little. From what Byleth has told me, she never had much interest in sparring while she was at school either.”  
“We’re partners. We need to be in sync when we’re fighting.”  
“Be that as it may, I have my suspicions as to why you keep seeking her out. If it was just for training, you would train with many different people. My daughter is a perfectionist; she would seek to learn how to counter many different fighting styles if this was just for training.”

The words hung ominously in the air. Felix felt like he was missing something here. If he was just training with her for… more than just getting better and staying connected, then what was he training with her for? What would be his purpose for doing this?

“I… don’t follow.”  
“Ah. That is a shame.” Gilbert frowned. “Maybe I was mistaken about your side in this.”  
“My side?” What was that supposed to mean? “She’s my partner. We fight together because we were taught the way of Synkroniseret Kamp.”  
“Anyone with a basic grasp on magic control and some chemistry can learn the way of Synkroniseret Kamp, Felix. Few can master it the way you and Annette have.” Gilbert’s frown deepened. “I would suggest you look into the history of it. Maybe it will enlighten you on why the Professor picked who they did. As for Annette, well… I must ask you to make a promise.”

“Alright.” Keeping a promise was easy enough. Might get Gilbert to trust him a bit, given everything that had happened.

“Byleth tells me this war will be over soon. I have made my own promise to Annette, to return home with her and speak to my wife about all that I did. But until this war is ended, I cannot act on that promise. My duty to the Prince means I must continue to serve him until then.”  
“You shouldn’t stick to your duty if it gets in the way of your family.” Felix knew it was hopeless. But he had to try. If Gilbert died, after everything that had happened…

One of Felix’s regrets from this entire war was not being there when his father died. He’d carry that regret with him for the rest of his life. If he could ensure that no one else went through that, it wouldn’t help him with his regret, but it would help him feel a little less bitter about everything. About all that had happened.

“My duty to the King-“  
“The King is dead.” Felix spat that out a little more harshly than he intended, given by how Gilbert’s eyes narrowed at him. “Dimitri knows this. You know that. If you die, Annette will be heartbroken. You saw what happened to Dimitri. To me. Is your duty really worth someone else losing a parent?”

Gilbert, for once, didn’t have an answer. Felix hadn’t meant to speak to him like that. But it needed to be said. Too many of them had lost their family as it was. He’d overheard Petra comforting Ashe many times over Lonato, and over what had happened in Ailell. Dimitri had his ghosts. Felix had tried to kill his friend, his future king, because of it. Enough was enough.

“If you want me to promise you something, then you need to promise me something.” Felix stood up from his bed. “If something happens, and you have to choose between your duty and your family? Choose your family.”  
Very well.” Gilbert didn’t look too pleased about that, but he stood up from his chair too. “But in return, you will not allow harm to befall Annette for the rest of this war. My duty means I must protect His Highness. Your duty will be to protect Annette.”  
“She doesn’t need protecting. She’s strong enough to look after herself.”  
“Even so. You said Annette would be heartbroken if I died. I would be devastated beyond words if she died in this war. So that would be your promise. I will choose my family over my duty should you make sure Annette gets through this war alive. You will swear this on the graves of your father, your mother and your brother. Are we in agreement?”

  
“If you swear on your King’s grave, then yes.” Felix held a hand out for Gilbert to shake. The older man grasped it and firmly shook it in agreement. “I will keep her alive.”

“Good.” Gilbert let go. Turned to leave. “Has she made mention to you of her plans once the war is over?”  
“She wants to open an orphanage and a school in Dominic to help those worse off.”  
“She does. Perhaps you could do something similar if you take over Fraldarius.”  
“And if I don’t?”

Gilbert paused. “Then I suppose you will find a way to be useful to His Highness. Garreg Mach could always use more teachers, from what Seteth says.”

Him, a teacher? No. He didn’t have the patience. Gilbert walked out of his room, looking as though they’d had nothing but a nice, civil talk. Given the last time they had spoken, it might as well have been a civil discussion.

He and Annette would be cooking tomorrow. Gilbert’s comment on him sparring with her still bugged him, even as he got ready to go to sleep. Why else would she seek him out, if not to get better?

Was this a Sylvain thing? He should probably ask Sylvain about it, if only to shut the voice in the back of his head up that needled him about a potential reason why she kept seeking him out.


	21. Another Promise is Fulfilled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's some slight squickish thing involving blood coming from the eyes towards the end of the chapter? I'll post a summary of the chapter in the end notes if you don't wanna read that.

Felix got his answer. He didn’t get time to process it.

Imperial forces were gathering at Fort Merceus. Remnants of House Bergliez and House Herving forces were preparing to defend it, rallied by the order of Edelgard, but that wasn’t the interesting part for them. Having the so called “Impregnable Fortress” under their control would aid them greatly, but it wasn’t the goal. Not to Byleth anyway.

The Imperial garrison at Fort Merceus was under the command of one Jeritza von Hrym, also known as the Death Knight. They hadn’t crossed paths since five years ago, when Lysithea blasted him ass over teakettle and forced him to retreat in a humiliating defeat. Though Byleth had suspected that the Death Knight would want to even the score, he had never come close to the Monastery since they retook it.

Lysithea no longer had access to that strength anymore. Hanneman and Linhardt’s experiments had been successful in removing her Crests, and while it had given her her life back, she still needed time to get back to how strong she used to be. Time that they did not have.

Annette and Marianne were both still injured, still recovering. They were relegated to the back until they were better, serving as additional healers for the time being. Byleth and Mercedes could not synch to the same degree as Felix and Annette, or Dimitri and Marianne. The only other synchropartners were Ashe and Petra, and neither of them were mages. The Death Knight would slaughter them like cattle. Byleth lacked a trump card against the Death Knight, and while they didn’t think Jeritza knew that, they knew he wouldn’t take long to realise.

Throwing their army at him would just result in massive casualties, and Jeritza’s own death when disgruntled elements in the Kingdom’s army lynched him in retaliation for his slaughter. As interesting as it would be to see their efforts, that would be a betrayal of Byleth’s promise to Mercedes. Having Hapi summon a Demonic Beast would just cause further complications in the fight. Cyril had to remind Byleth to sleep, had to get Jeralt to make sure they slept. So many options, all of them useless. Useless!

Dimitri offered suggestions. Ideas. But refused to take the lead on the operation. Claimed that Byleth, Seteth and Jeralt would be better for leading their forces than him. The Prince still bore guilt over his selfish actions before Gronder Field, it seemed. It made Seteth and Jeralt worry for his reign as a King. If he wouldn’t take charge now, when would he?

The day came that they would march for Fort Merceus, and Byleth put forward their plan for taking the Fortress. Linhardt, Hanneman and Yuri believed they could get some of the mechanical dolls Cornelia had brought to the capital to obey them, using knowledge from the library in the Abyss. The idea would be to use them to smash through the walls of the fort, thus shattering the initial defences of the Death Knight’s forces. From another side, Hapi, Constance and Lysithea could use their combined magical power, as well as Hapi’s curse, to push a surprise attack on the Imperial forces from behind, thus creating another entrance for them to pour in from. Hapi complained, loudly, about how irresponsible Byleth’s plan was.

“We can take care of the beasts easily. I wouldn’t account for it if I didn’t have a plan to deal with it.”  
“You realise it only worked five years ago because Hubert attacked the giant bird?” Hapi looked at Byleth like they were an idiot. Which they were. This was a stupid plan for relying on her condition. “They have Demonic Beasts of their own, they aren’t just going to be stupid and attack whatever I summon.”

“If not, we can deal with it later.” Byleth ignored the disgruntled glare Hapi shot at them and pressed on with the plan. The forces would be split into four groups. The largest one would draw their attention at the front of the fort. The rest would sneak around to converge at the back, punching a hole through to swarm them.

To Byleth’s surprise, Seteth and Jeralt backed that plan. The leaders of the groups were decided shortly afterwards, with Byleth leading the main force. Seteth and Jeralt would take two of the smaller groups, and Leonie and Ferdinand would take the remaining groups.

Mercedes waited until after the war council had been dismissed. She caught Byleth as they were about to leave, but the way they’d idled made her wonder if they had been waiting for her. “Emile is stationed at that fort, Professor.”  
  
“I know.” It was a risk, telling her this. But it was needed to make sure the battle ended how they wanted it to. It was the only way they and Sothis had found. “And I know that without your help, he dies here. If he dies, you’ll hope for another life where he survives. I can keep my promise to you, but I’ll need your help to do it.”  
  


“Then I will do what I can to help, Professor. Thank you for trying to save him. But please, don’t put the others at risk to save Emile.”  
“I won’t. Believe in me, Mercedes. I’ll get you your brother back.”

They departed the next day. The trek was a long one, and they had to slow down to await the arrival of the machine dolls. Yuri took to calling them Kingdom Golems, like the ones that had been kept in Abyss to protect the Chalice all those years ago. The name stuck with the soldiers, so they kept it. They were grey, like the clouds above them. Imposing, towered over them all, even Dedue.

Over half of them didn’t work. Yuri and Hanneman got the rest to work, with the occasional help of Linhardt and Lysithea. With the Golems on their side, punching through the gates to the fortress would be easy.

Jeritza had learned of their plans for a two-way attack. Leonie and Seteth’s groups were attacked by Imperial forces after the army had split up to move into position. Jeralt’s and Ferdinand’s arrived on time, bringing Lysithea and Hapi with them. Constance had been with Seteth’s group. They wouldn’t arrive until after the battle had been ended.

Byleth’s group sent the Golems forward, taking advantage of their much stronger defensive capabilities to hide their forces behind. The ground shook with the force of an explosion, followed by the howling of a giant wolf, meant that the attack had begun. Byleth’s forces pressed forwards, determined to take the fort with the Golems.

Jeralt and Ferdinand followed the wolf through, being careful to avoid getting downwind of it. Once they were sure it had gotten into a brawl with the enemy’s Demonic Beast, they too led their forces inwards, smashing into the back of the enemy forces who were ready for them.

The Golems broke through, with only one of the three they’d deployed disabled. Byleth’s forces poured in behind the remaining two, taking pot-shots with arrows and spells as they pushed further and further into the fort. Between Jeralt’s forces and Byleth’s forces, they steadily pushed the enemy back. The arrival of Leonie and her group to reinforce Jeralt allowed them to break through and meet in the middle.

Phase two could begin, and Byleth intended to take full advantage of it.

Leonie took over command of Byleth’s forces, directing them to crush the Imperial forces in the fort. Byleth and Mercedes slipped away, cutting through the Bergliez and Herving forces that stood in their way. Mercedes whispered prayers that Caspar and Linhardt would forgive them for their slaughter, that the Goddess would take care of those they’d killed. That the Death Knight would survive their next fight.

“You have arrived at last.” The Death Knight turned to face them as they approached. Scythe in hand, murder in his eyes, he focussed on Byleth, ignoring Mercedes. This was the final battle. He did not want the Emile side of him to interfere. If he didn’t attack Mercedes, he would not have a reason to wake up. “Byleth. Wielder of the Sword of the Creator. Which of us will die? Which of us will live? Which of us will be claimed by the scythe of death?”

“If the Goddess gets her way, neither of us.” Byleth shrugged, readied their sword. The Claws wouldn’t be necessary here. “Enough. I’m stopping you here, Jeritza.”

Scythe and sword collided, and lightning crackled around them. It flowed through them, arced out from their hands, but it didn’t affect them. Didn’t hurt them. Byleth jumped backwards, snapped their fingers at the sky. Moments later, they were in the air above the Death Knight atop a wyvern.

He didn’t hesitate. Lightning bolt after lightning bolt arced after the wyvern. But Boltis had learned from the best, and led those spells around after him, spun and flew with the majesty of a royal wyvern. The spells missed Byleth by a hair length, crashed into Jeritza’s own forces and broke their backs once again, allowing Jeralt to smash through them, commence an assault on the two Demonic Beasts.

Byleth and Boltis rushed towards Jeritza, who fired a Thoron at them, intending to shoot them down before they could attempt whatever they were planning. As Byleth predicted. The two separated, Boltis flew under the spell while Byleth flew over, smashing their sword down with a horrific screech of bone and metal. Jeritza was lucky to catch it on the scythe, barely deflecting a killing blow even as his weapon cracked from the blow.

He saw Mercedes take to the sky on top of the wyvern, but barely had time to react to Byleth coming after him again. His scythe caught attack after attack from Byleth, but it was getting to the point where his horse was more of a hinderance than a help. Byleth stepped back, summoned a spell to hurl at Jeritza, and he made his move.

With agility his heavy armour concealed, the Death Knight leapt from his horse, summoning a magical shield to block Byleth’s spell before bringing the scythe down, slicing a good part of the way through their arm as he went. Byleth evaded his follow up attempt to put them down for good and kept their distance.

Even from here, the Death Knight could see that the wound he had inflicted on Byleth was being healed. They possessed the Crest of Flames, not the Crest of Lamine, and he possessed the Tathlum Bow. They couldn’t be healing themselves, could they?

No. The glow of magic above them drew his gaze up slightly. Mercedes was circling aboard the wyvern Byleth had called in, casting healing magic on them. Emile stirred, recognising Mercedes.

The Death Knight pushed his offence forward, trying to prevent Emile from waking up and interfering. This was their final battle; he would not let his victory of Byleth be ruined by Emile! Sword caught scythe, and Byleth parried the clumsy attack easily, shattering part of his armour in return.

A spaulder fell from his armour, along with a part of his helm. Blood trickled down after it. He felt the warmth of healing magic flow through him, watched the wound heal itself up.

“Mercedes.”  
“She wants you to live.” Byleth still looked ready to fight, despite speaking so calmly. “She wants you to come home.”  
  


Emile awoke at the mention of home. Home? To House Bartels? He had slaughtered them. He had murdered his father to protect her, to protect his mother. The Death Knight had slaughtered everyone else. Home did not exist anymore.

“There… is no home anymore. My home is here, on the battlefield.”

“Then she’ll help you find a new one.”  
“Help?” Emile was hopeful. He could have a new home?

The Death Knight was furious. This was their home now. To be taken away from here? To be forced to act like he didn’t want to fight, and maim and murder? How dare they! He seized control, quashed Emile underfoot and charged forward, went after Byleth once more.

Byleth wasn’t ready. They’d believed they were getting through to the Death Knight, to Emile. But now the Death Knight was forcing them back, blasting them with magic spell after magic spell, blocking their attempts at parrying with scythe swings that required the Divine Pulse to avoid. Byleth would have died multiple times had it not been for Sothis pulsing after a fatal wound too many.

The Sword was pulled from Byleth’s grasp, flung away from them. The Death Knight didn’t hesitate. If not for Mercedes crashing into them, Byleth would have died there, for the last time.

“Mercedes, no!” What was she doing? She’d been told to not get involved! Byleth scrambled up, tried to grab her, pull her away. The Death Knight was faster, blasted her across the fort with a Thoron from within dagger range. “Mercedes!”

“…what did you do to her?”

Emile returned to watch his beloved sister be launched into a wall by the Death Knight. He forced himself to freeze up, demanded an answer. He didn’t get one, and felt himself losing control again, felt the Death Knight overpowering him.

“Mercedes!” No, no no, this couldn’t be happening! Byleth had planned this to make sure Mercedes didn’t get hurt! They begged Sothis to keep her alive, to not let their children die. They were almost there, to lose someone now? It couldn’t happen. They couldn’t let it happen! “Are you alright?”

“I’m… fine?” Mercedes thought she saw a green figure floating before her for a moment, before it vanished. “I’m fine, Professor. But you need to let me fight Emile.”

“No. I gave you your orders. You need to stay out of this. I can take him down.”  
“Professor. You can take him down. But I want to save him. That was what you promised me. So let me fight Emile.”

“No. Follow your orders, Mercedes. This isn’t the time.”

“Byleth, please.”  
“The Death Knight will kill you.”

“He won’t. Remember how His Highness and Marianne defeated Cornelia?”

“…the Synkroniseret Kamp. But we could only ever draw on each other’s power.”  
“If I have your strength, I can save Emile.”  
“It’d be too much for you.” Sothis agreed with them. If she didn’t end the fight quickly, she wouldn’t survive. Or worse. “It’d kill you before long.”  
“I have to try, Professor.” Mercedes smiled at them, a reminder of what Byleth had lost two lifetimes ago. “Isn’t that what you told us to do? To try?”

“Yes, but…” Byleth was reluctant to agree. They’d rather face the Death Knight themselves, rather than risk Mercedes, or another of their children, getting hurt or killed.

“Professor. Please.” Mercedes held a hand up to stop them from moving forward. “Have faith in me, Professor. Like you asked me to have faith in you. Let me do this. I just need your help. I just need to synch with you.”

“Are you sure, Mercedes?”

“I am.” Mercedes steeled herself, pushed herself back up to her feet unsteadily. “I will not wait for another life to correct my mistakes.”

“…very well.” Byleth pulled Mercedes into a tight embrace. Held her close.

A moment passed, and Byleth and Mercedes synched up. Not to the level of Felix and Annette, no. Rather, the first form. Mercedes drew upon the power Byleth possessed, drew it into herself to strengthen herself, to make up for her own lack of offensive power.

“But be careful, Mercedes.” Byleth’s voice echoed in her head as he let go, sat down against the wall she’d crashed into earlier. Their voice mixed with the voice of someone else, someone who was not the Professor. Their thoughts claimed it belonged to the Goddess Herself. “You won’t be able to channel my power, the Goddess’ power, for long. If you don’t end this quickly, it will kill you. Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“It is, Professor.” Mercedes wiped at her eyes, the back of her hand coming away bloody as she did. The Death Knight took a step backwards, the visible violet eye briefly fading back to their usual brown.

“Mercedes…”

“Now, now.” She shook her head reluctantly, watched the blood drip from her hand. “This is a battlefield. You wanted to fight? Then I will fight you. I’ll prove to you how far I will go to bring you home, Emile.”

The brown faded away, replaced by the bloodthirsty violet of the Death Knight. “Then fight.“

“I will. And I will end this, here and now. I am ready, Professor.”

“Alright, my love.” Byleth hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But it was too late now. ”Give it your all, Mercedes.”

The Death Knight walked cautiously towards Mercedes. He desired blood, desired a good fight, but something was off. No one, save for Byleth and Rhea, excluded as much power as Mercedes currently did. And that made him wary.

He swung his scythe in an experimental swing. Watched as Mercedes darted away from him. She hovered in the air; the wealth of knowledge granted to her by the Professor giving her more ways to fight. She evaded his next attempt at attacking her as well, flying in front of Byleth to block the Death Knight’s scythe with nothing but one hand. With the other, she ripped the rest of his helm from his face, threw him backwards with no effort exerted at all.

Such strength, such dexterity was not just hers. The Professor was stronger than they looked. She wiped away the blood that had trickled onto her sleeves, onto her dress. It had come from her, at least. She hadn’t hurt Emile.

Mercedes flew towards the Death Knight with astounding speed, ripping away another chunk of his armour even as his scythe sliced itself through her leg. She looked down, expecting to see a horrific wound, only to notice that it was already healing, faster than she had expected.

_The Crest of Flames,_ she thought. She’d long gotten used to not having a Crest, to not feeling it burn through her blood as she cast magic. She needed to be careful, to end this battle quickly. She still remembered what happened to Miklan. She did not want to share his fate.

She started fighting. But one single Nosferatu was enough to bring him down to a knee, to Mercedes’ surprise. “Professor, my spells aren’t that powerful, are they?”  
“No. But mine are.”  
  


The Death Knight staggered back up, rushed to swing his scythe at Mercedes, aimed to slice a path from shoulder to waist. Mercedes didn’t even move, before a shield flickered to life in front of her, shattered the scythe and deflected the shards away from her. He was right to be cautious. She had Byleth’s power on her side. She was channelling the power of the Fell Star, the power of the Goddess.

Mercedes called upon another spell. A simple Thunder spell, nothing complex, nothing overpowered. Yet with Byleth’s power behind her, that spell erupted into a world rending thunderstorm. Ripped up chunks of the ground as it launched the Death Knight away from her, ripped chunks of his armour from him as it worked his way through his body. She watched in horror as her brother screamed, a sound that made all the soldiers in the fort turn to watch, before he crashed into a wall half the fort away. She immediately cut the spell short. Cast a healing spell to fix the worst of the damage.

He got back up immediately, fired off another Thoron, the same spell that had taken her out earlier. That nearly killed her. This time, she captured the spell easily, redirected it into the sky. She made the Thoron fall down upon him, knocked him down with his own spell.

“Emile.” She spoke with the voice of many, the voice of a legion. Byleth’s voice echoed with her own, along with another, one the Death Knight couldn’t place. “Come back with me. Mother misses you greatly.”  
“No.” The Death Knight did not want to fight Mercedes anymore. He wanted a good fight. This was just a pointless slaughter. But he refused to let the bloody path he had cut end here. “I will not let him go.”  
“Then I’ll have to convince you too. I won’t lose my little brother again.”  
  


Another Nosferatu brought the Death Knight down, and this time, Mercedes didn’t let up. She cast the spell again, and again, until finally, the Death Knight fell. She cast one final healing spell, enough to heal the damage she’d done to Emile, before she ended the sync with Byleth.

Mercedes didn’t manage any apologies. Nor any words. She collapsed down next to her brother, focussed on breathing. On recovering from the battle. It had been like five years ago, when she had fought Thales and Monica. Only this time she wasn’t poisoned. Just exhausted.

Byleth ran over to her, rolled her onto her back, checked her for wounds. The one on her leg had healed, but her eyes-

Her eyes were red. Blood leaked from them as she breathed, there were no whites in her eyes, no colour. Just pure red. Bloodshot didn’t even come close to describing how bad it looked. Byleth cast a pair of healing spells on her, waited to see if it did anything.

“Professor?”  
“I’m here, Mercedes.”  
“What about Emile?”  
“He’s right there. Next to you.”

Mercedes turned her head, turned to look at Jeritza. His helmet was completely gone, her mind burned with pain unlike pain she’d ever felt before, but he was alive. He was next to her. She’d gotten Emile back.

Her family would be whole again.

She turned to look at Byleth, smiled so warmly that Byleth could feel their face heating up in embarrassment. “Thank you, Professor. Thank you for keeping him alive.”  
“Don’t thank me.” Byleth shook their head, rested a hand on Mercedes’ forehead as they cast more healing magic on her. “Emile will need to stay in a cell until the war ends. He’ll be a prisoner of war.”  
“That’s alright. Thank you, Professor. I’m glad we could save him.”

_You. Not we,_ Byleth thought. Byleth would have cut Jeritza down without a second thought if they hadn’t promised to save him. 

The redness was still there, but the blood had stopped leaking. It’d have to be a Manuela thing, then.

Byleth cast a fireball into the air, made sure it landed away from Mercedes and Jeritza. Hopefully Boltis would see it and get help. They doubted they could carry Mercedes and Jeritza back to the army.

Enbarr awaited after this. The war would be over soon, and with it, Byleth will have won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kingdom assaults Fort Merceus. Due to Marianne and Annette being injured, Lysithea being cured of both her Crests and losing much of her power because of it and Ashe and Petra not being able to fight the Death Knight, Byleth resolves to face him with Mercedes. 
> 
> During the battle between Byleth, Mercedes and the Death Knight, Mercedes takes a blow meant for Byleth. Sothis' intervention saves her. She begs Byleth to synchronise with her, willing to risk everything to save Emile with the Goddess' power. Byleth agrees, and Mercedes does her best Alex from Strange Journey impression and kicks the Death Knight's ass. Though she wins, she is badly injured.


	22. ...My Dear Children.

A garrison was left at the fort, along with the remaining Golems. They would hold the line against enemy skirmishers until the now unified Kingdom, along with the forces from the former territories of the Alliance, decided to march for Enbarr.

The fateful day was not far off, Byleth warned them in a meeting. They had called a war council two days after they had returned to Garreg Mach. Exhaustion was etched all over their face, a sure sign they had not been sleeping again. That they had stayed with Mercedes all this time, who’d been confined to the infirmary again.

“Once we take Enbarr, all that will be left is Edelgard. When we defeat her, and we will, this war will be over. I wanted to thank you all for your support throughout this campaign, for not questioning my absences. For putting your faith in me, and Jeralt and Seteth. I promise you, once the Empire has been defeated, you will no longer have to fight.”

Byleth looked in the direction of Dorothea and Linhardt, of Ashe and Petra, the four hardest hurt by the war. It was no secret that Ashe and Petra would be leaving for Brigid once the war was over. Fódlan had too many bad memories for Ashe to stay, and Petra had to take her throne to become Queen of Brigid.

Linhardt had already announced his plans to renounce his noble title and find some quiet place to do research. Dorothea… she had something planned with Yuri. Byleth didn’t know what, only that it also involved Bernadetta. But all four would be leaving Byleth once the final battle was over. And they could not blame their children.

“If you want to make arrangements with your fellow classmates, now will be the time. Form connections. Make sure you are all in agreement in what you want to do when the war is over. You’ve got a month before the bulk of the army arrives. Then we leave for Enbarr.”

The students filed out of the cardinals’ room. Some of them were already discussing between themselves what they wanted to do, what they might do. The end of the war was in sight for them, at long last. What would they do after the war had ended?

Marianne was one of the last to leave. The letter from her adoptive father remained in her room, awaiting an answer. She was not sure of the answer she wanted to give.

He wanted her to return home. Not to marry a noble, as she had feared. But because he wanted to prepare her for a post war world. To make sure she was ready to take over Edmund, so she did not have to rely upon her spells, or her Relic, to convince others.

A future without fighting, where she wouldn’t have to risk becoming a Beast like Maurice. Where words alone could end a battle. It was an ideal world. One that she wanted to be a part of.

Yet Marianne wanted more. Not in the sense of more power, goodness no. The Goddess had seen fit to ignore her earlier prayers, but rather… something selfish. And impossible.

“Marianne?”

She’d almost bumped into Dimitri. As it was, Dedue had caught her, taking his role as the Prince’s shield as seriously as ever.

“Oh, my apologies. I was lost in thought.”  
“It is quite alright.” Dimitri looked around Dedue, looking at Marianne curiously. It was not like her to be lost in her thoughts like so. “Is it something you wish to discuss?”  
  
“Ah…” It was something she wanted to discuss. But she had already asked enough of Dimitri all those months ago. Asking for this was too much. Yet it was better to ask now, so she didn’t wonder about what if.

“It is. Please, may we talk between ourselves?”

“Of course.” Dimitri nodded an assent. Dedue stood aside, and Dimitri gestured to her to follow. Raphael grinned at her. Ingrid glared at Raphael to stop, stepped aside so she could follow Dimitri to wherever they were going.

They bypassed Byleth and Leonie on their way out, locked in an intense discussion about something. Felix and Sylvain were writing something down on a piece of scrap paper. She didn’t hear anything, but Felix looked incredibly embarrassed.

The Goddess Tower came into view as they existed the Monastery, and Marianne began to wonder why. Other places would be better suited for a private discussion. The tower was unstable, dangerous. They could have used the Cardinals’ room, or Lady Rhea’s. Why would he go to the Goddess Tower?

“No one should be here now. If they are, they will be higher up.” Dimitri looked out of a hole in the wall, up at the sky above. “The weather is beautiful, is it not?”

He sounded hesitant. He must already know what she is going to ask.

“It does.” The sun shone brightly, even as the sky watch swooped around on their patrols. Marianne looked at Dimitri, who looked away still.

“Marianne, when you heard the voices before, when we were fighting Cornelia… what did you hear them say?”

They’d spoken of wrenching Cornelia’s head from her shoulders. Of not letting her survive. The occasional thought had flashed into her mind from his, of her own head hanging from Fhirdiad’s walls, next to Dimitri’s, and the Professor’s. Not too different from her own thoughts five years ago, except her head had been alone.

“They didn’t want Cornelia to live. I… saw me next to you and the Professor. Our heads, hanging from the gates to Fhirdiad.”

Dimitri flinched. He hadn’t known that she had seen that thought. “I see. You are one of very few to know of that, Marianne. Out of my friends that I grew up with, only Ingrid knows. Her, Dedue. And you. Their voices. Those thoughts. I believe they will stay with me until the day I die.”

She understood. Her own thoughts still haunted her, even all these years later. Despite the strength to walk forward, despite her purpose to fight, they still hung around.

“But I intend to keep our promise. I will live. Their voices will stay with me but will serve as a warning. I intend to build a Kingdom, where we can all live in peace. If Jeritza and the traitorous nobles can be forgiven, then perhaps…” Dimitri shook his head. “I am getting ahead of myself. But the Professor told us to ‘make arrangements with your fellow classmates’, so…”

Dimitri shifted uncomfortably for a moment, as though he was indecisive about something.

Marianne spoke first. It was better for her to get what she had to say out of the way. Then they could discuss Dimitri’s plan for the Kingdom, without her worrying about how he would react.

“Dimitri. I do not want you to feel pressured into accepting this. It is incredibly selfish of me to ask this of you, and I know I cannot help you with your family. So please, if you do not want this, then tell me, and I will never speak of this again.” She felt, rather than saw, him look at her in confusion. No, she needed to press on. To get this said, before he could leave. “But I have been considering what would be the best course for my future. I am prepared to take over Edmund. I am prepared to help the Kingdom-“

If she kept talking like this, she was going to lose her nerve! Marianne pulled out a ring, allowed the sunlight to catch on the emerald. “Well, here! Will you accept this?”

“A ring...?”

“I’m sorry for surprising you so suddenly.” Goddess, Dimitri’s jaw was slowly falling to the floor! This was a bad idea, but it was too late now. “In truth, I’ve surprised even myself by doing this. I know I cannot help you with your family. I know that there could be better people than someone who spent most of their life avoiding others. But with everything you’ve been through, with everything we’ve done together…”

Who was she kidding? They were partners in battle. She wasn’t fit to help him in peacetime.

“…I wanted you to know that you would always be in my heart, Dimitri. That no matter what happens, I will still think of you. That you will always have my support.”

Dimitri didn’t answer.

“Dimitri?”  
  


Still no answer.

“Your Highness…?”

Nope. Had she broken him by asking this? She hadn’t meant to, she just wanted to get it out, so it wouldn’t bother her for the rest of her days!

“I…”

“I’m sorry. I-If the ring was too much, then think of it as a promise. I didn’t mean to come across as me asking you to marry me, that would be a bit much-“  
  


“You… weren’t?”  
“No, I mean, me? With all my flaws?” Marianne tried to laugh. “I just wanted to tell you how I felt.”

Dimitri shook his head, turned to face her. A ring, just like hers, was held in his hand.

“I brought you here to ask you to marry me.”

Marianne froze. Her? He wanted to marry her? No, no no. There were better people than her, people who would be helpful to him!

“Marianne… neither of us are without flaws. Neither of us are perfect. But you and I have been side by side since our academy days. My friends have helped me. You have helped me. I could not see a Kingdom where we are not all standing together. But if you do not wish to marry me-“  
“No!” The birds nesting in the alcoves flew off with startled wingbeats from her shout, and even Dimitri took a step back in surprise. “I do. I do want to marry you. But are you sure?”

“I am sure. I can think of no one else I would want by my side.”

They exchanged rings. Slid them onto their hands in perfect synchronicity. Smiled at one another.

“Thank you, Marianne. Thank you for accepting, despite everything.”  
“Thank you for accepting me, despite my flaws.”

The rings reflected in the sunlight as they left the Goddess Tower, hand in hand.

…

Ever the overachiever, Annette had immediately making plans after the war council with Byleth.

The Professor’s words had hung in the air as they left. Everyone had been murmuring to themselves, deciding what they wanted to do next, what they were going to do after the war was over.

Annette had already started making preparations. She’d made sure her father still planned to honour his promise to come home. She’d asked Hanneman, Manuela and Seteth for advice regarding running a school. She’d made careful notes of everything they had told her. Mercedes and her had already agreed to pool their resources into the orphanage first, with the school teaching what they could, rather than specific classes. It wasn’t an amazing thing to do, but it was a start. Yuri had overheard them and asked them for a favour. Well, asked her for a favour, more specifically.

“Would you be able to convince Baron Dominic to help with the funding? You see, Bernadetta and Dorothea have similar ideas to you two, and I think it would be a nice way to build ties once the war is over.”

She didn’t see a reason why not. It would help the people of Dominic recover from the war. Her uncle could use it to build relations in the new Kingdom. It worked out for everyone.

She sent a letter off to her uncle to suggest the idea to him. Nothing to do but wait for an answer.

While she waited, she returned to her usual routine. But during her training sessions with Felix, Annette noticed that he had started acting… really weirdly. His movements were hesitant, awkward. Whereas before he’d had no problem helping her back up, now he was reluctant to. Any time she tried pointing it out, he got grumpy and defensive. Mercedes only nodded her head sagely and told her to wait for him to explain. What was that supposed to mean?

She didn’t want to fight with a grumpy Felix at Enbarr. How were they supposed to synch up if he wouldn’t tell her what was wrong? They were a team! He knew he could trust her, so why now? After all they had been through, why was he being strange now?

Annette had taken to her old habits out of frustration. Singing while watering the flowers, dancing when she was sure no one was watching. Anything to distract herself from her stupid synchropartner.

“Water water everywhere, make them grow, make them tall, make the plants grow big and strong…!” She didn’t usually sing the plant song, but-urgh. Felix was being even more annoying than usual.

The plants were watered. She couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore. “Felix, why are you hiding there?”

“I’m not hiding.” Felix looked out from behind a tall flower, as though he hadn’t been attempting to hide from her this entire time for some reason.

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what are you here for?”

“Uh…”

“You don’t even have a real reason, do you?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Then why are you here?” This was what she meant. Felix hadn’t spoken to her all day, he’d tried to sneak into the greenhouse for no reason, and now he couldn’t even give her an actual answer! “I’ve already taken care of the plants-“

“Because of you.”

“What?” Annette was certainly not expecting that response. What had she done to warrant him spying on her like a shy child? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Because, you… urgh, forget it. Forget I said-no, don’t forget! Hold on a second, I, uh…” He started frantically patting down his pockets, looking more and more embarrassed and alarmed as he struggled to find what he was looking for. “I knew what I wanted to say, but uh…”

“Are you… blushing?”

“No.”

“You’re blushing, Felix!”

“No I’m not. Shut up. Wait, no, don’t shut up. Goddess…”

“Are you okay, Felix?” Annette watched him flail, growing more concerned as the panicked look as his face worsened. Felix never panicked, aside from that one time with Arundel. What was so bad that it was causing this sort of reaction from him? “I’ve never seen you this flustered.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… I just wanted to speak to you, no, hear you sing, before we left for Enbarr. Both! I wanted to do both!”

“You wanted me to sing?” Was that why he was spying on her?

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know! Your voice… it gets stuck in my head. I hear it when we’re in battle.”

“Are you sure that’s not just us synching up?”

“No! It happens when we aren’t synched up too! And I hear it when I sleep, too. I don’t know, it’s like I’m your captive!”

Captive? Captive?

Annette needed a moment. She’d considered Felix to be many things. Ally. Partner. Evil villain. But captive? No. Never. But her songs had that sort of effect on him?

She felt her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and she forced herself to look away from him. She’d been prepared to yell at him for being weird but now she was the one being weird. Him? Her captive? She’d never want him to be her captive. Her partner yes, but not as like a battle partner. That wouldn’t be needed after the war was ended.

Her partner.

Her partner?

“Hey Felix! Annette!”

Good goddess above, that was Sylvain shouting behind them. She heard him run into the greenhouse behind them, swung an arm over their shoulders before they could move, could he not see they were busy? “Sorry to interrupt you, but Felix here left something behind in the dining hall!” Out of his pocket he produced a rather large scrap of paper and thrust it into Felix’s chest. “Here. Sorry Annette, but Felix isn’t good with words.”

“That’s great.” Annette smiled a sweet smile, choosing to ignore Felix subtly trying to reach for her dagger. “Thank you, Sylvain.”

“You’re welcome!” Sylvain grinned at her with a gleeful look in his eyes, before giving Felix a pat on the back. “Good luck, Felix. You have definitely got this.” He ran out of the greenhouse, almost colliding with Ignatz as he went before fleeing into the dining hall once more.

The mood sufficiently ruined, Felix and Annette watched him go. “I’m going to go kill him before he ruins anyone else’s day.” Felix’s voice bore no malice, merely embarrassment, but she still stopped him from leaving all the same.

“Felix, wait. I’ll come with you.”

“No, I’m gonna kill him.”

“I think Dorothea and Ingrid will want to more than you. And they’ll be serious about it.”

At that, Felix and Annette synched up in thought, and set off out of the greenhouse in hot pursuit of Felix’s sometimes best friend, before they could suffer a casualty before even setting off for Enbarr.

…

"Do not fear the coming days, coming days, coming days,

I am going to keep you safe, my dear Mercie…”

Byleth sang quietly to themself, alone in the infirmary. The only other person there was Mercedes, fast asleep in the infirmary cot. Byleth had come to see her again, sang their lullaby until she had fallen asleep once more. A routine, a selfish routine. But one they had settled into, nonetheless.

The children had already started making plans for after the war had ended. Many of them had come to their Professor about them seeking guidance and opinions about laws they wanted to implement, ideas they wanted to try.

Byleth helped them where they could. But they couldn’t help much. Seteth, Hanneman and Manuela were much better suited to helping the students there. Byleth’s talent and skill lay in helping them to survive, not to thrive. When you had the power to turn back the hands of time, you exploited it for as much as the Goddess allowed you to. Sometimes beyond that. Whatever it took to get things right. You were ready to scrub the future you had been a part of, to ensure that the children survived the present.

Beyond the war? The children would have to make their own mistakes. Take advantage of fighting alongside one another to forge relations that would bring their territories to a higher standard than before the war. To atone for what their parents did, in the case of Ferdinand. Byleth could not guide them there.

No. Byleth had their own task to undertake after the war had ended. They just needed to tie up one last loose end before they all departed for Enbarr.

Mercedes.

Byleth had kept their promise to bring her brother back. She’d asked them about what they said, why they’d called her “my love”. The hopeful gleam in her eyes betrayed the reason why she had caught onto that.

Somehow, despite Byleth’s secrets, lies and disappearances, Mercedes had still come to care for them. She had even admitted as such privately, when she mentioned how she wasn’t going to rely on her adoptive father for help with the orphanage she planned to open.

“My mother and I want to do our best by those children. If my stepfather agrees with that, then he can help us. But I won’t let him use them as something to secure more power with, like he wanted to do with me.” Mercedes had told them during a private discussion. They’d taken to talking in the library, given that had become Byleth’s new hideout after Jeralt dragged them from Rhea’s bedchambers for missing one too many meals. “He’s willing to support me, but I feel as though that is only because I am no longer valuable to him.”  
  


“That means no more marriage proposals.”  
  


“It does. Though perhaps telling him that I have fallen for someone would ensure that he doesn’t change his mind.”

“Perhaps so.”

Two lifetimes ago, Mercedes had confessed to falling for them using similar phrasing to that. Byleth wasn’t oblivious anymore.

Despite how they had been, she had still fallen for them in this life. Sothis claimed that if there was any proof this was right, that this was fate, it was the fact that no matter what Byleth had done, Mercedes had still fallen in love with them again.

Yet the Mercedes that Byleth loved had died twice before. She’d joined them in their crusade, in their battles, and had paid the ultimate price for it. A pathetic excuse for a grave had sat just outside the Monastery walls. Another grave, but much smaller, had been made outside Fhirdiad the second time.

Jeralt had survived because of Mercedes. Everyone had survived this far. Only Enbarr remained now, and this war would be over. No Slithers to hunt down. No survivors seeking vengeance for what Byleth had done. Byleth’s children would live to see the end of this war. The dream would come true.

So why were they sat beside a sleeping Mercedes in the infirmary? Why were they praying to a goddess that they claimed to be? That they believed themselves to be? Was it due to them appreciating how lucky they were? Was it due to them being thankful for everything going as well as it had done?

No.

Despite everything, Byleth didn’t want this. Byleth didn’t want to settle down with Mercedes. They didn’t want to spend the rest of their life with her, looking after children in an orphanage.

It only took one person to destroy a nation. If Byleth stayed with Mercedes, then it meant that one person could destroy everything they had fought for, everything they had worked towards again.

Dimitri wanted a world where the strong would not crush the weak anymore, where the future was created without needless bloodshed. Edelgard wanted a world where humanity stood hand in hand, without any need for gods. Neither of them could see that world come to fruition if someone could take it all away from them for a stupid reason like revenge. Like they had done to Edelgard’s world.

Byleth needed to be the deterrent. The wrath of the Goddess, burning down anything that threatened the world the children wanted to create. Spilling blood to keep the monsters in line, keep them from threatening their children.

"Do not fear the coming days, coming days, coming days…”

Byleth took off the necklace they’d worn since before the war. Jeralt’s ring, the one he had given to their mother, had been hanging around their neck, attached by a thick shoestring. Perhaps it was good that Jeralt didn’t know what they had done with it.

The ring was now a dull white, no longer gleaming like it had been in Jeralt’s hands. The gems inside looked discoloured, cracked. A remnant of the wishes of their mother and father, and of the old Byleth, the one before everything. When the war was over, when their crusade was finished, it was to be given to someone Byleth loved.

Dirty. Damaged. No longer beautiful. A relic of a bygone era. A metaphor for Byleth, really. But the ring wouldn’t belong to Byleth anymore.

They set it down on the table next to Mercedes. Beside the vase filled with lavender flowers. A gift for her, to remember them by after the war. They’d wanted to write a letter to her, to Jeralt, to explain everything. To explain what was coming next. But doing so would implicate them in their actions. They’d suffer the consequences of Byleth’s actions.

Byleth wanted to save their children. They wanted to save Mercedes and Jeralt. No action was too extreme, nothing was too monstrous now. Byleth would do whatever it took to keep their children, their loved ones alive. The war was almost over. Anything that stood in their way now was to be sacrificed for the coming world.

"Do not fear the coming days, coming days, coming days,

I am going to keep you safe, my dear Mercie…”

Byleth sang, one final time. Gave Mercedes’ hand one final squeeze.

They left the infirmary behind, as the last candle flickered and went out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do Not Fear the Coming Days is still sang to the tune of London Bridge is Falling Down, particularly the version made by Dezzaired for the Zombi trailer. I tried to base Annette's plant song on the tune of Now (It's Just the Gas) from Little Shop of Horrors as well. I hope people liked it!


	23. Shattered Faith

Battle plans were drawn up. Seteth and Jeralt would separate the army into two groups, flank the city of Enbarr from the east and the west. Leonie and Ferdinand would be the sub-commanders for these forces, aiding Jeralt and Seteth respectively in directing the soldiers.

The Adrestian army had gathered in Enbarr, under the command of Hubert. Scouts had reported that the soldiers were prepared to fight and prepared to die to stop them from reaching Edelgard. Demonic Beasts, the best soldiers they had… all ready to stop them from taking the city.

Byleth departed two days before everyone else, wanting to scout out the location themselves and round up any rebellious forces in the Empire to help reinforce their army in the battle. The army departed after they set off, split into two groups.

Dimitri and Marianne, as well as Felix and Annette, went with Jeralt’s army. Ashe and Petra went with Seteth’s army. Petra was not looking forward to returning to Enbarr. The city had been her home, when she had been sent to the Empire. It was a reminder of Edelgard’s betrayal, of why she had spent four years hiding in the Valley of Torment. It was a reminder of why Ashe had to give up his dream of being a knight to protect her, to ensure her safety from the Empire.

The only good thing that would come of this was that with the Empire gone, Brigid would be free. She and Ashe would be free. She would be able to go home and bring Ashe with her.

They just needed to get through Enbarr first.

A letter arrived from Byleth, addressed to them both. They were ordered to read it and then pass the letter along to the commanders of the army, so that their order would not get lost in the confusion of the battle. Whispers spread across the army, wondering why. What the point of it was. If it was right.

Seteth and Jeralt quietened the army down. Orders were orders, even confusing ones such as what Byleth had given them. They would do their best to abide by those orders.

The ominous sight of Enbarr greeted them as they rode up, joined by the soldiers from Varley, Herving, Bergliez, Aegir. The Empire had descended into in-fighting amongst their territories, and the city had been even more heavily reinforced to prepare for their arrival. Demonic Beasts howled, soldiers chanted and shouted. They’d been reinforced by their own Kingdom Golems, which had been painted in the colours of the Empire. All stood in their way, all prepared to fight. They wouldn’t be able to get into the city without casualties.

Seteth and Jeralt rallied the armies, rallied their soldiers. Each and every soldier, every person there, was willing to fight, and die, for their Kingdom. To bring this war to an end, once and for all. Enbarr would not be able to stop them, no matter how many defences it threw up.

Byleth stepped out in front of the armies, held their hands up to stop Jeralt and Seteth from advancing forwards. They walked towards the Empire’s forces, stopped just as a warning arrow landed at their feet.

“Soldiers of Enbarr! I give you one chance to disarm! To surrender! We are here to end this conflict, and we would like to do so without any more bloodshed!”

Byleth was doing this for Dimitri. For Mercedes. They promised them they would give the Empire one last chance to disarm.

“Consider your losses at Gronder Field! At Fort Merceus! The Death Knight surrendered to us. Do you truly believe you can defeat us when even he could not?”

An arrow narrowly missed Byleth’s head, flicking past their ear as it landed behind them. They could see the other archers berating the one who’d shot at them. The soldiers were lowering their weapons. The golems were powering down, even the beasts were watching them carefully.

They dropped their weapons. They permitted entrance to the city. An ambush, most likely. One that would result as just as many casualties anyway.

Even if it wasn’t an ambush, if Edelgard and Hubert truly were planning to let them into the city, it did not matter. Those soldiers were not Byleth’s children. Surrender meant nothing to them.

What came next was all that mattered now. Correcting the course of Fódlan, making sure the children would never have to worry about in-fighting amongst their people.

A dark sigil glowed briefly in their hand, a pattern no one there recognised. It felt alien to look at, like something that shouldn't exist. The soldiers raised their weapons and watched it warily, trying to figure out what it was.

The sigil vanished from Byleth's palm. A moment passed, before a series of violet rings appeared above the towering gates of Enbarr. Sitting atop the gates was Byleth's new sigil, as large as a city block. Hilda and Caspar recognised those rings. Realised what was about to come.

Before they could call anything out, the people there got their answer when the Wrath of the Goddess, the javelins of light, crashed down upon them.

The soldiers in front of Byleth were killed instantly. The golems and beasts were destroyed, vaporised by the attack. That alone would have made the rest of the enemy force surrender. An aerial attack they couldn’t defend against? That Byleth alone controlled? It would have led to Hubert surrendering. Edelgard surrendering. The end of the war.

But they had destroyed so much already. Killed so many people throughout all of these wars. What was one more city? What was a few more innocent people? The less people that could harm Byleth’s children, the better. They’d kill all who resisted, terrify those who gave up. They were the Goddess now, and this was their judgement.

Byleth called down a rain of hellfire upon Enbarr. The screams of the soldiers inside the city were drowned out as javelin after javelin fell onto the city. Behind them, they heard Jeralt shout at them to stop. They heard Flayn cry out in horror as she realised who had destroyed Remire Village all those months ago. They felt the judgement of their entire army fall upon them as they razed the city to the ground, only stopping when they could no longer hear the cries of the Demonic Beasts inside the city.

Only then, did they raise their sword up high.

“If you take offence to my actions, then I will pay for them when the war is over. For now, the Emperor awaits. Take the city! End this war!”

The army didn’t move. They just stared at Byleth in horror, watched them run into the city alone.

“Move out.” Jeralt buried his feelings, his emotions with practiced ease. Took his horse’s reins. “The sooner we take Enbarr, the sooner we can go back to peace.”  
“Very well.” It took Seteth a moment longer to collect himself. Urged his wyvern into the sky. “Keep an eye on Byleth. I want them brought in after this battle has ended.”

The Kingdom’s army marched across the craters into Enbarr, surveyed the damage caused by Byleth. Craters covered the once proud city, the dead bodies of the soldiers that had been guarding the city, as well as the civilians in hiding from the battle. Sharp cries from Dorothea and Flayn alerted them to the opera house and the church, both of which had completely vanished. Only craters remained where they had once stood.

“Why? The opera house…”

Dorothea almost collapsed, if not for Flayn catching her.

“It’s gone. It’s completely gone.”

The army pressed onwards, past the field of craters. The fewer craters were left, the more enemy forces they encountered. They might have surrendered before, but Byleth’s actions meant that each soldier, each beast and golem alike fought to the death against the marching army. Parents held the line with the soldiers as their children fled, despite Dimitri, Seteth and Jeralt begging them to stop fighting. Kids no older than Lysithea had been back in their school days faced them down, refused to surrender. They tried to disarm their enemies, tried to take them prisoner. The friends of those they took prisoner kept trying to kill any prisoners they took. It reminded Felix of what Ashe had been willing to do for Petra.

They weren’t the villains here. Byleth’s actions had nothing to do with the Kingdom. Were they all willing to die in a defiant, pointless last stand? The war was over!

They captured few, were forced to kill many. In the end, all that remained were a few enemy forces and Hubert. Ashe and Petra broke away from the combined army, ducked through the enemy soldiers to reach Hubert.

“Hubert!” Petra called out. “I have come to stop you!”  
  
“Have you now?”  
“I have. I am knowing it was you who sent the assassins after me!”  
“Assassins?” Hubert frowned, lowered his lance. That wasn’t the reaction that Petra was expecting. “I did not send assassins after you.”  
  
“It was either you or Edelgard. The assassins were wearing Imperial colours when they attacked me. They chased me out of the Empire. I know you did it!”  
  
“Hardly. I wouldn’t have used assassins. A useful ally such as you would have been brought before Lady Edelgard. Whoever chased you out of the Empire was not working for us.”  
“Then who could they be working for?” Ashe stood next to Petra, with his own lance drawn. “If they weren’t working for you, then why would anyone want to kill Petra?”

  
“Who knows? Someone who wanted you to turn on the Empire? I suspect that whoever that was knew about my spy network and knew it well.” Hubert raised his lance. “But enough of that. I have no more answers I can give you. Given how you treat messengers, surrendering soldiers and civilians, I suppose I must be the hero that stops you from reaching Lady Edelgard.”  
  
Petra shook her head. She looked to Ashe for help, looked to Hubert with pleading eyes. “We did not have anything to do with that!”  
“It doesn’t matter if you didn’t. History will decide who was responsible for what. And I will not let you reach Lady Edelgard. Not as long as I live.”

Hubert stabbed forward with the lance, forcing Ashe and Petra to separate. Within a moment, both had synched up. Hubert swung the lance around, forcing them to back up further, clearly expecting a two on one fight.

Ashe and Petra drew their bows, notched arrows that flew in sync towards Hubert. He was more than ready, used his lance to nimbly evade the shots. He rushed towards Ashe, expecting him to dodge, prepared to swing around to parry the incoming arrow from Petra.

He wasn’t expecting Ashe to catch his lance with the bow. He wasn’t prepared for Petra’s arrow to bury itself in his shoulder. He wrenched the lance free, sliced it across Ashe’s chest in what was just short of a lethal blow.

With Ashe down, he turned his focus to Petra. In the time it took for her to draw her sword, he’d already closed the distance and forced her to back up, back against a wall. He tried for a killing blow. Petra batted it away, dropped her sword and started whaling on him with her fists. The attacks stunned him, forced him to back up. Petra seized the opening, continued her assault on him, following her punches with kicks, headbutts that dazed them both.

Hubert got the upper hand eventually, turning the assault around on Petra. With him unable to cast magic because of the poisoned arrow from Gronder Field, he’d taken the time to pick up physical skills. Bringing the full might of his larger frame to bear, he easily overpowered Petra, brutalised her with heavy blows of his own. He didn’t kick, or headbutt. He relied only on his fists, and on tying up Petra’s limbs to make it impossible for her to block or redirect the blows.

He tossed her aside as Ashe flew at him. His chest wound made him slow, and he didn’t pack the same ferociousness that Petra did. He and Ashe were the same, both of them dedicated to their loved ones, to the people they care about. Hubert used this predictability, used Ashe’s emotional drive against him, took him down with simple, heavy blows. It was only when Petra got back involved in the fight that things started to go badly again.

Against Ashe or Petra, Hubert had the upper hand when it came to brawling. Against the both of them was another matter completely. Hubert focussed on Ashe, determined to eliminate the weaker of the two from the fight, but Petra would be right behind him to slow him down, to draw his attention away. When he tried to take down Petra, tried to take out the stronger of the two, Ashe would be right back on him, trying to draw him away from Petra. Two flies buzzing around his head should not be a problem, yet they were so persistent that it was starting to become exhausting trying to keep up with them both.

Ashe and Petra never lost their synchronisation from that point forward. But it came at a price: Petra felt Ashe’s pain as though it was her own, and it slowed their down just as much as it did Ashe. Hubert was tiring out from the fight, from facing them both down, but they were getting just as exhausted, and Ashe was getting even more paler by the second. If they didn’t end it soon, they were going to lose.

Hubert seemed to realise this, gained a second wind. He came back, stronger and more aggressive, managed to separate Ashe from Petra, managed to push the weaker one back. Hubert’s assault on Ashe became unrelenting, became stronger and more dangerous with each and every hit that he landed on him. Ashe was fighting, fighting harder than he had ever fought before. He was fighting for Petra, for himself, fighting to make sure they both survived past Enbarr. To make sure they could go Brigid, like Petra wanted them to. He was savvy, cunning. He allowed a blow to land, fell down as though he could fight no more.

Petra drew Hubert’s attention away, started mimicking his techniques to tie up Hubert as much as she could. Hubert was lanky, difficult to restrain without getting flung off. She rained down blow after blow on him, matching him and Ashe punch for punch, kick for kick to get Hubert to fall, to surrender, to admit defeat. He’d doubted that Petra could be better than Edelgard, and she was determined to prove him wrong. She was better! She and Ashe were better than he and Edelgard!

Ashe appeared out of nowhere, redirected one of his punches into a wall, winced at the cracking noise it made. Petra kicked out his legs from under him with perfect synchronicity, grabbed his legs as Ashe grabbed his arms. They pulled out rope from the satchels they’d brought with them. Bound Hubert’s legs and arms together. Rendered him incapable of fighting back against them any longer, knocked him out with a pair of kicks in the head.

“I… told you…” Petra pulled one of Ashe’s arms around her to support him, ignoring his look of confusion. She pointed at Hubert. “I told you I’d be better than Edelgard…”  
“Petra, are you alright?” Ashe asked as though he didn’t have a bleeding wound longer than his arm on his chest. Petra looked at him, aghast when she saw the wound.

“This? I’ll be fine.” Really, he would. The pain was fading, that was good, right? Petra’s frantic shaking of her head said otherwise.

“No. Not with that.” Petra dug into her satchel, pulled out a concoction. “Drink, Ashe. Now.”  
“I am fine, Petra.” His legs felt weak, but that had to be- Petra was _glaring_ at him. “But thank you.” Petra’s eyes never left him, not until he had finished the concoction off, grimacing at the moons old aftertaste.

She didn’t take her eyes off him until the wound had closed up. Only then, when the colour started to return to his face did she turn away. Walked over to Hubert, picked him up and slung him over one shoulder. “Ashe.” She looked at him, held a hand up when he tried to help her with Hubert. “With this, the war is over. You do not need to fight.”  
  
“It’s not over. Not yet.” It was like he’d aged a thousand years. Petra could see the weight of Ailell weighing down on him for a moment, before it disappeared, replaced by his usual sunny disposition. “Come on, Petra. I can help you carry him back to the others.”  
“I am having no problem with carrying Hubert.” Petra gestured to her lance and bow, dropped on the ground where she and Hubert had initially started brawling. “But you can be doing the protecting, if you feel up to it?”  
  
Ashe’s hands started trembling again, but he spoke before she could take it back. “I will protect you with my life, Petra.”

_Only for a little longer,_ she thought.

When this war had ended, she would ensure Ashe never had to kill again. He bore the signs of a broken warrior; she knew him well enough to know he didn’t want to fight anymore.

Just Edelgard to go. Then neither of them would have to fight again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The children must survive. No matter the cost, right?


	24. Take the Palace, Defeat the Emperor!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another one of my favourite parts of the story to write. I hope you all enjoy it!

The remnants of the Enbarr forces were swept away after Hubert’s capture. Taking great care to ensure he didn’t share the fate of some of the soldiers they’d captured earlier, they set up a holding area for the prisoners of the battle. Surrounded it with soldiers. Ferdinand was placed in charge of looking after the prisoners, to make sure they didn’t escape or kill each other.

A new plan was drawn up. Laid out by Seteth.

“Jeralt and Leonie will take their forces to the eastern part of Enbarr to mop up any remaining forces. I will take mine to the west.”  
“Please ensure that your soldiers have mercy on any who surrender, Captain. Seteth.” Dimitri looked weary, defeated. Byleth’s actions hung over all of them like a thundercloud. “Do not loot the areas either.”  
“I am not the Professor.” Seteth ignored Jeralt’s glare. “I will have mercy.”  
“We were going to show mercy anyway. Don’t need to remind us.” Jeralt walked away with a grumble. Dimitri watched Leonie and Alois follow after him, concern for him etched onto their faces.

“Your Highness.” Dimitri looked back at Seteth, who wore a grim look on his face. “The Emperor awaits.”

“I know.” Dimitri looked up at the Imperial Palace. It was the last place they needed to go through, the last battle before the war would finally be over. “Edelgard’s forces will likely be hidden in there, awaiting us to charge them.

“The Palace seems to be undamaged. So yes, I would assume so.” Seteth looked over at the gathered forces. “We will send a strike force with you to aid you in taking the Palace-“  
  


“That isn’t needed.” Byleth spoke behind them. Seteth looked up, anger clouding his eyes over as Dimitri turned around to look at his Professor. “Edelgard is alone in the Palace. She’s waiting for you, Dimitri.”  
  
“For me?”  
“The answers that I promised you. I can’t answer them anymore. Edelgard can but she has questions of her own that she wants answers to. So go find her.”

“Professor!” Seteth furiously stalked after Byleth, who’d already set off walking away from them both. “Professor, you will not walk away from me. You will answer my questions!”

Dimitri watched the Professor leave, a hundred questions on his mind about what Byleth had done, why Edelgard was waiting for him. Had they convinced her to surrender? To stand down? Dimitri wanted to ask, but Byleth was already leaving. Seteth had given up chasing them, was ordering soldiers to look out for them as he prepared to head west.

He wouldn’t realise until years later that that would be the last time he’d ever see them.

“Your Highness.” Ingrid was by his side a moment later, Dedue and Raphael flanking her and quickly moving to cover him. “Where are we to go next?”  
  
“The Palace.” Dimitri turned to face her. His eye flickered to Marianne, who’d caught back up to him after separating to heal Ashe. “Only the Emperor remains now.”

He could hear the glee in Glenn’s voice as he realised what was to come next. His parents, too, were delighted, ready to revel in the last battle. In that Dimitri would finally be able to rip apart Edelgard.

Rodrigue reminded him of what Byleth had told them years ago. Edelgard was the key to finding out who was behind Duscur. He needed her alive.

Glenn did not care. Once she was dead, Duscur didn’t matter. They would be satiated; their revenge would be complete. Killing Edelgard was all that mattered.

Dimitri focussed on the world around him, allowed the voices of Ingrid and Dedue to draw his attention. Listened to them issuing orders. He knew Rodrigue and Glenn wanted different things. He knew what his parents wanted. But until he got to Edelgard, he couldn’t do anything.

They walked forwards, up the stairs to the entrance of the Palace. Even from where they were standing, they could see so many dead soldiers littering the floor. Imperial soldiers, mages they didn’t recognise. The entire enemy force in the palace had been slaughtered, to the very last soldier.

They stepped gingerly over the bodies. Dimitri committed each face to memory, wondered if he could convince the others to make a memorial of sorts for those that had died here. Glenn mocked the idea. Those soldiers knew what they were doing. They knew why they were fighting. They’d died like he had, protecting their leader.

It didn’t make seeing their dead bodies better. It was Duscur all over again.

Edelgard was stood before her throne, eyes closed. He heard his companions draw their weapons, ready their magic. They were ready to fight, ready to bring down the Emperor.  
  


“Edelgard.” Dimitri’s voice rang out in the deathly quiet. Composed, resolute. She didn’t answer him. “Please, surrender. The war’s over. You are the last person standing for the Empire.”

“I cannot. If I surrender here, you’ll continue to kill. Continue to conquer. You will destroy everything that stands in your way.”  
“I will not, Edelgard. I want peace for everyone!”  
“I sent a messenger to you, asking for peace. You sent back his head.”  
“You asked for peace?” This was the first Dimitri was hearing of this. “I was never told-“  
“Spare the lies, Dimitri. When I told you I had nothing to do with Duscur, you still tried to kill me. I fought this war to bring down the false goddess and her minions. Everything I did was for the betterment of everyone. I wanted a world where we stood, hand in hand. You tore everything down. You destroyed everything. ”

Dimitri had simply wanted-

He’d wanted to put an end to this madness-

He’d done all of this because-

Too many people had died already. Dimitri had wanted to stop more people from dying-

Yet Byleth had killed all those people. Byleth had killed so many people. Dimitri hadn’t paid enough attention. Too busy trying to take revenge, trying to atone to realise what his Professor had been doing.

“That is enough.” Dedue stepped in front of Dimitri, shield raised. “His Highness is giving you a chance to surrender. Please take it.

  
“Enbarr has lost enough. The Empire has lost enough. I will not surrender here. I will slice my way through you and grasp a new dawn for my people.”

Edelgard walked down the steps, eyes open and trained on Dimitri with every step she took. Dedue raised his shield. Ingrid readied her lance. Raphael drew his axe. All were ready to fight Edelgard.

She stopped at the bottom step.

“A weapon forged in likeness of Nemesis’ blade. They took it. Improved it. As loathe as I am to use it…”

Edelgard shed her cape. Something poked out from behind her. Something familiar looking.

“…I have no choice in the matter. I will trample over you all for the sake of a better tomorrow!”

The Sword of the Creator segmented behind Edelgard. The Creator bits, or Claws of the Goddess, flew free from the. They circled around her as she drew a second sword, as Dimitri and everyone backed up, realising what she meant by the weapon.

“You may want to have mercy on me. But I will give you the same mercy as you showed my people!”

The Claws flew towards Dedue, who raised his shield-

Raphael cried out, toppled to the floor behind Dimitri as the Claws flew away, back to Edelgard. Marianne quickly cast a healing spell, repaired the damage Edelgard had done to him, but it took a while for him to stand-

Ingrid jumped onto Dedue’s shoulders, leapt skywards and latched onto Arthur. The pegasus whinnied and flew as fast as he could as the Claws gave chase. Dimitri shoved past Dedue, leapt forward to drive his lance into Edelgard’s shoulder.

Edelgard caught the spear under her arm, grasped hold of it to keep him still as the Claws broke away from pursuing Ingrid to try and skewer Dimitri. Dedue ran in front of him, caught the Claws on his shield, booted Edelgard backwards.

Raphael ran forwards, swung his axe down on Edelgard with a fearsome battle cry. Had it connected, it surely would’ve killed her, yet she side stepped, leapt off the stairs away from them all and redirected the Claws to strike at Raphael, forcing him off the stairs and onto the ground below. The Claws changed direction again, skewered into Dedue’s back and into Dimitri’s shoulder, knocking them both down-

Edelgard charged Marianne, determined to prevent her from healing her companions. With the Claws preoccupied with chasing Ingrid off, the Sword of Seiros met the Blutgang. Maurice and Seiros’ blood flowed through them both as they collided, determination written on both women’s faces as they fought. Edelgard needed to eliminate the healer. Marianne needed to survive. Their swords crashed into one another, mythril screeching against umbral, and they separated for a moment, before colliding once more. Not a battle of ideologies, but one of survival. Neither were willing to die here, both were willing to fight to survive. Not for their duties. So they fought, and when the Claws came around, they found themselves bouncing off of a magical shield.

“How?” Edelgard was surprised. The Claws had penetrated Solon’s shield five years ago. How could Marianne’s have deflected them?

“I don’t need to use magic to hold you off.”  
“You’re going easy on me.”  
“No. I’m stalling you.”

Edelgard saw the glowing blue in Marianne’s off hand. Realised where it was going just in time. The Sword on her back blocked the lethal stab from Dimitri, but she screamed in pain all the same, jumped away from them both.

“The Sword.”  
“Dimitri-“

The two synched. Came to the same conclusion.

Dimitri charged. Marianne summoned a magical shield around him, bit her tongue as the Claws just barely bounced off of her own shield as she ran after him. Dimitri cast an Aura to blind Edelgard, aimed to drive Areadbhar into the Sword of the Creator. Marianne caught up to him, swung her sword down towards Edelgard’s arm, aimed to remove it and the Sword of Seiros with it. The Emperor foresaw their cruel mercy, made them pay for it. Redirected his lance thrust, forced it into the path of Blutgang, shattering it in half. She easily seized Dimitri by the face, caught Marianne in the same way. Smashed their heads together with an alarming and sickening crack, tossed them away from her to look for where Ingrid had gone-

Ingrid leapt from Arthur, dropkicked Edelgard away from Dimitri and Marianne. She matched her swing for thrust, parried away the incoming Claws to slice a wound into Edelgard’s arm, rolled under a swing to chop at the Sword of the Creator. Edelgard screamed, fell, skewered Ingrid with the Claws as payback.

No one was left standing for a moment. Edelgard pushed herself back to her feet, recalled the Claws to the Sword of the Creator-

Marianne forced herself to focus on Dimitri. Her wounds were worse, but he was the Prince. She refused to lose him, not after everything they went through-

Edelgard saw Marianne moving. Used the Seiros to support her weight as she staggered over to her. Kicked her away from Dimitri with an angry snarl. Her back burned with every step, but she had won. Raphael was down. Dedue was losing too much blood to save his liege. Ingrid and Marianne were both too badly hurt to save Dimitri.

She would take no pleasure in her next actions. She’d wanted to walk with Dimitri, with the Professor. But their actions forced her hand. For the sake of Fódlan, Dimitri had to die.

“You would have been a good King. But you were too deluded to see the truth.” Edelgard raised her sword. “I’ll look after everyone, once the Goddess has been destroyed.”

She brought the Serios down.

The Lance of Ruin caught it inches from his neck.

“Maybe if I had wooed you before the war, this wouldn’t be happening.”

Edelgard looked up at Sylvain in surprise. Where had he come from?

“But I’m here now. So why don’t we start with the introductions?” Sylvain grinned at her. It only grew wider as her expression changed to one of disgust. “My name is Sylvain Gautier. I am the heir to the Kingdom territory of Gautier. And you, Miss Edelgard von Hresvelg, will not be killing my friend today.”

Edelgard spun away, launching the Claws of the Goddess at Sylvain as he went. The Claws bounced off of a magical shield again, and Sylvain gave chase. Closing the distance between them, he forced her back, lance thrust after lance thrust, fighting with the determination to protect his friends, to protect his country. To build a world he wanted to see-

Arrows flew, clanged into the Sword of the Creator, dislodging it even more so. Edelgard shouted in pain, launched the Claws at the people who’d fired those arrows. Ashe and Petra’s screams of pain echoed around the palace, but Sylvain pushed on. Edelgard was starting to slow, but the shield around him was starting to falter.

A swear rang out, and Sylvain winced as he realised Edelgard had taken out Hapi. There went his shield. Linhardt couldn’t keep it going on his own, so he risked it all on one final attack, not aiming for Edelgard, but for the sword on her back. Whatever it was, the flying sword things came from it. Take that out, and Edelgard would be forced to get up close and personal. The way he liked it.

His thrust missed the mark. It drew blood from Edelgard’s cheek, but it missed. Edelgard took advantage of it. She grasped his head, rammed him into the floor below and ran the Lance of Ruin through his thigh for good measure. He could take a hint. Sometimes.

Edelgard ignored the swears that Sylvain muttered as she turned away, wiped the blood from her cheek. A lucky miss. If it had connected, she’d have lost. She stalked back over to Dimitri. He was trying to stand, using Blutgang to push himself up. She kicked it out from under him, brought the sword down on his head-

Falchion blocked the swing. Just how many people were in this palace!? Edelgard redirected her swing, narrowly missed slicing Felix’s face off. A blast of wind behind her knocked her away from Dimitri, told her there was a mage behind her.

Annette. Relic in one hand, magic in the other. Like Felix in front of her.

How infuriating. But it didn’t matter. She’d kill them all for Fódlan’s future!

Edelgard swung at Felix, launched the Claws at Annette. She heard no screams coming from her, which meant all of the Kingdom soldiers had figured out how to deflect her Claws now. She’d lost the element of surprise. Now she really had to fight.

Felix parried her blows easily, warning Annette as she focussed on destroying the Claws of the Goddess. From the left. Above. Behind. Annette cast wind magic in all directions, knocking down some of the Claws so she could crush them with her Relic. Edelgard was slowing, the fights with everyone else had taken a lot out of her. The Sword on her back wobbled ominously, and she winced each time it did. Felix knew they had to get the sword off of her to shut down the Claws.

He tossed Falchion over Edelgard’s head; sucker punched her when she turned to look. He parried her furious swings at him, still focussing more on Annette to make sure she knew where the Claws were coming from. Moralta clashed against Seiros, and the two locked blades. Felix and Edelgard, staring one another down. Both had swung swords at Dimitri’s neck. But Felix had changed. He no longer sought Dimitri’s death. He no longer sought to become stronger.

Now, he sought to protect those around him. Like Edelgard and Byleth. But unlike them, he wouldn’t sacrifice other people’s lives. He’d fight to end this war with Annette, with everyone else.

He’d fight on his terms. He’d win on his terms. He wasn’t a knight, like Glenn and Rodrigue, he was Felix. And one way or another, he was going to make sure the Boar got through this. He would make sure his family didn’t die in vain.

He pulled the blades behind him, yanked the swords away from them. Drove his fist into Edelgard’s face, watched the Claws race towards him as she stumbled backwards. He was unarmed. Defenceless. He was doing everything he’d been trained not to do, everything he shouldn’t be doing.

He wasn’t sacrificing his life for his future King. He was giving an opening to his partner.

Tossing away Crusher, Annette stumbled as she picked up Falchion, forced herself to be steady as she heard Felix shout out in pain. She drew her dagger, stabbed it into the wound Ashe’s arrow had made in Edelgard’s side. Swung Falchion downwards at the Sword of the Creator. Sliced through Edelgard’s back, cut the sword off and away from Edelgard. She ignored her agonized screams until it fell away from her. Watched it shatter on the floor as Edelgard collapsed.

She didn’t move. Only looked around the palace. Watched the remaining Claws clatter to the floor and crumble to dust. Looked at the now gaping wound were the Sword had been. If Edelgard survived that, she wouldn’t be walking again. No matter how quickly she was healed. Annette cast a healing spell anyway, enough to stop the bleeding.

“We did it, Felix.” Annette smiled, let out a relieved laugh. Sat down next to Edelgard. She was breathing. They’d kept her alive, like they’d been ordered. The war was finally over.

“Felix?”

“Yeah.”

Annette turned to Felix, her smile melting off when she saw what had happened to him.

The Claws had sliced into him in one final attack. Wounds all over his torso, his arms and face leaked blood as Felix sat on his backside, breathing heavily. It was starting to pool around his legs while he vainly tried to tie off a tourniquet with his teeth. But even all the open wounds on his body wasn’t what scared her the most.

What scared her the most was that his sword arm was hanging limply by his side. It’d taken the worst of Edelgard’s final attack.

  
“That looks bad.” Annette immediately pushed herself to her feet, using Falchion to support her as she hobbled over to Felix. “Stay still. I’ll try to fix it.

“It’ll be fine. Go heal the others.”  
“But you’re hurt, Felix.” Annette didn’t like this. It reminded her too much of Gronder Field, of Rodrigue.

“I’m fine.” Felix cursed as the tourniquet fell apart. “Go.”

She didn’t leave. She’d been training for this since that day. She wouldn’t be forced to leave someone alone while they were injured again.

She cast healing magic on Marianne and Dimitri, waited for them to get back up, to rush over to Sylvain and Dedue. She cast healing magic on Ingrid and Raphael, turned to watch Linhardt emerge from the shadows, supporting Hapi as he cast healing magic on Ashe and Petra. Only then did she turn back to Felix.

“There. Now let me help you.”

Felix looked at the bandage he was holding, then at Annette, who was almost looking at him pleadingly. He sighed and nodded. Held his hand out to her.

Annette took his hand, took hold of his sword arm. She channelled healing magic into his wounds, watched them close. She watched the colour return to his face as he looked away, watched his sword arm slowly knit itself back together as her magic began to home in on the worst injury she had ever seen.

She prayed it would be enough to save his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember the Claws Byleth used pre-timeskip? Yup. Edelgard got them too. Isn't it amazing what technology can replicate?


	25. Fell Star, the Wandering Flame Has Fallen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> References to suicide ahead. I'll shove a summary in the end notes. Apologies for not realising sooner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics denote flashbacks.

_“So what was supposed to happen, then? If I was not supposed to get Sothis’ power, then what was she supposed to do?”_

_“My mother… you were intended to be her vessel, the way she would return to life. She would use your body as hers and walk among us as you.”_

Echoes of the past. A reminder of what Lady Rhea had had hoped would happen to them.

The poor guards in their way were easily slaughtered. Byleth hurried. They needed to do this before Edelgard told the others. If she was even alive. Byleth had given them orders to spare her, to keep her and Hubert alive. They were their children. Edelgard had been a means to an end once before, but the world she had desired had been a good one. It meant Byleth’s goal had been achieved, with what few survivors there were of that war.

Keeping her alive, watching Dimitri create that same world? It was the least they could do to repay her.

They went down the stairs. Peered into each and every cell they came across. Some were empty. Others didn’t have the prisoner they were looking for. Some hosted dead bodies freshly killed from the looks of them. Hubert must’ve been trying to save the spies Byleth broke. Forgotten to take away anything that could be used as a weapon, judging from the stones in their hands.

They weren’t Byleth’s children. They weren’t worthy of saving.

One final cell awaited at the end. Even from far away, Byleth could see it was the one they were looking for. They took their time approaching it, looking around every corner in case Hubert or the Slitherers had left a trap, a wayward prisoner trying to escape. Anything. Byleth was so close. They couldn’t let this be ruined now.

“Child…?”

That was Rhea’s voice alright. That was the correct cell.

“My sweet child… you’ve come for me at last.”

Byleth looked around. The cells next to Rhea’s were empty. No witnesses. No one to intervene. No Seteth, Flayn or Catherine nearby. It was just Byleth and Rhea.

“Rhea.” Byleth unlocked the cell. Lockpicking techniques they’d picked up from Ashe two lifetimes ago. “It has been a very long time.”  
  
“I am glad to see you safe.” Rhea smiled, struggled to her feet. Byleth looked away, smiled to themselves. This was working at they wanted it to.

This war had been born of Edelgard’s attempts to tear down the Church. Of many attempts to tear down the church. Too many lives had been taken for the sake of this war. Byleth’s students had died twice for this. For Lady Rhea’s false reassurances, for the sake of the Church of Seiros. Someone had to pay.

Yet something was off. Getting here had been too easy. The prisoners hadn’t spoken, hadn’t noticed him. Something didn’t feel right. There should have been some resistance, even after they’d dropped the Javelins onto the city. Surely the Slitherers would have been more willing to stop them? Or had the attack on Shambhala, the battle with Nemesis truly been the end of them?

It may very well have been. It didn’t feel real, but it was real. Byleth had Rhea at their mercy. No Immaculate One to fight, nor a rampaging Rhea, driven mad by the Javelins. Just small, kind Rhea, who’d used them and their family to bring back her mother. Who had only been able to grant false reassurances when Byleth had grieved for Mercedes.

Yet Byleth couldn’t shake the feeling something else was happening here.

When Byleth looked back, they got their answer.

The world around them had faded to black, reminded Byleth of Sothis’ throne. Rhea was gone. Jeralt was stood before them. Struggling to stand.

“Father?” That was impossible. Rhea was just here! Where could she have gone?  
  
“Child.” Jeralt spoke with Rhea’s voice. Smiled up at him. “Why are you here? The Empire will find you here.”  
  
Why did she look like Jeralt? The bombardment must have rattled something in Byleth’s head.

_It did not._

Sothis spoke in their head, and the small girl materialised next to Jeralt. “Our souls are entwined, Byleth. I can see what you want. I can see what you stand to lose should you go through with this. I wanted to show you it.”  
  
Jeralt changed. Rhea no longer looked like him now.

Now she looked like Mercedes. Sweet, kind-hearted Mercedes. The ring they’d given her was on her hand, gleaming in the dying sunset behind them. Like they had just proposed atop the Goddess Tower again, like they had two lifetimes ago.

“I understand why you want your revenge, Byleth. I understand that despite my requests, you still truly believe you must save everyone because of the power I gave you. I asked you to carve a path of your own. I cannot tell you that you were wrong for choosing this path. But if you do this, I will no longer allow you to turn back the hands of time. If you want to sacrifice everything for revenge, then I will make sure you stay on this path forever more. Whatever you do from here onwards, you will face the consequences of your actions. Whatever happens next will become fated to happen.”

_“Do you know of the Divine Pulse?”_

_“Yes. It was a power that my mother had. It could let her undo any mistake she had made.”_

_“Sothis granted me that power.” Lady Rhea looked up at them, hope lighting up her face as she began to wonder what that meant. “You said that I was the only one who wielded the power of Sothis?”_

When you had the power to turn back the hands of time, you exploited it for as much as the Goddess allowed you to. Sometimes beyond that. Whatever it took to get things right. To lose that power, to no longer be capable of rectifying your mistakes? Byleth wouldn’t be a saviour anymore. They would still be the Wandering Flame, but they would no longer be able to exploit the hands of time. Everything would be up to Dimitri.

“If you wish to cut down Rhea, to have your revenge, then you must cut through that which you fought all this time for. You wanted to save your father. You wanted to save Mercedes. You have done that, Byleth. Do you really wish to throw it all away?”

Mercedes smiled at them. Jeralt flickered in her place. It must be some power of the Goddess Byleth didn’t know about. How else could they be standing in her place?

“It is not too late to stop. If you turn away now, you can stop all of this. I will count to five, Byleth. At five, I will turn back the hands of time. We will go back to before all of this began, and we will pretend all of this never happened. We will find a way for you all to live happily. Mercedes and your father, they can help you. You will not have to deal with the nightmares alone anymore. All I ask is that you stop. Just stop, here and now, Byleth. **One**.”

To cut down Rhea, Byleth had to cut through those they loved. To kill Rhea, it would require them to be willing to kill Jeralt and Mercedes.

To make things right. To save them. This was insane.

“This is what you wanted to do, Byleth. **Two**.”

_“What about the students?” Byleth stood up and walked past Rhea, staring out at the sunset. “The ones who died saving you. Linhardt and Bernadetta, Cyril and Dorothea? What about Mercedes? You killed her, Lady Rhea. She died trying to stop you from destroying Fódlan. Is the Goddess happy that they’re dead?”_

_“She is not happy, but she will welcome them with open arms.”  
“And how can you know that, Lady Rhea? How can you know what the Goddess thinks when you put her heart in me? When she gave me her power?”_

_Something in Byleth snapped, and they started to smile._

_“You can’t, can you?” Byleth turned around, grin growing madder, even as the sobs started to wrack their body. The tears started to fall, but Byleth continued to speak. “You can’t tell what the Goddess will do, can you?”_

But Rhea had to pay. She didn’t care about their children. She’d burned down Fhirdiad. She’d murdered Mercie twice. She’d used Byleth to try and bring back her mother. She’d used Sitri to bring back her mother! She had to pay for her monstrous actions!”

  
“If that is what you believe, then kill her. **Three**.”

But were her actions monstrous? Byleth had rewound time so often, so frequently, for the purpose of bringing back Jeralt. Mercedes. Their children. But if Byleth’s own actions were monstrous, then they were also Rhea’s fault. Rhea had forced them to do this because she kept killing the children! Why did Sothis want Rhea to live? Why couldn’t she let Byleth decide? They’d suffered the most because of this war, they deserved to render judgement over her! This wasn’t fair!

“We both know it is not fair on her, either. She is not the same Rhea you knew, Byleth. **Four**.”

Mercedes and Jeralt. The children. Or Rhea. They’d come too far for Sothis to stop them now. Why now? Why intervene now, when they were on the cusp of victory, of winning against fate itself? Edelgard’s little messenger had begged for peace between the Kingdom and the Empire. The little rat knew Byleth possessed the Wrath, that was the only reason she had asked for peace. To spare her people. They’d paid the price for their opportunistic attempt at playing Dimitri. She and Hubert survived because they were their children, and because of their common enemy.

The Church. The Slithers. All of that would end with Rhea’s death.

But this? To put down Rhea, to stop her from hurting their children again, they had to sacrifice their father and their love? Jeralt and Mercedes had survived because of them! Byleth couldn’t, no, they wouldn’t kill the people they loved. It had to be a trick. A test, to see if they really were able to go to any length to stop Rhea. To take revenge on her.

So that was what it came down to. If they spared her, Rhea would walk free. Sothis would undo the destruction of Enbarr. Byleth would get to stay with their father and Mercedes.

If they killed her, justice was had for the children who died for Rhea, because of Rhea. They would become a traitor to everyone, but the dead would get their chance at vengeance upon Rhea yet again.

“All you need to do is stop.” Her voice betrayed her fear. Was Sothis pleading with them? “Turn away. Leave. Let Mercedes and Jeralt help you. You have done enough, Byleth.”

Mercedes’ smile shone before them. A beacon, leading to a new future. One where they didn’t have to fight anymore. They heard Jeralt, running behind them, calling out to them. If Byleth waited, he would arrive. He’d take Rhea back to the Monastery, where Byleth could no longer reach her.

No.

_Lady Rhea finally realised something. That if Byleth so chose, they could turn back the hands of time. Undo this entire war. Byleth could take their knowledge back with them, go back to the start and change everything._

_She realised this, just as the Sword of the Creator was driven into her gut._

_“Sothis gave me her power.” Byleth seized Rhea by the chin, forced her to look up at them. The grief, the anger, staring back at them. Rhea tried to speak, tried to ask why, but Byleth cut her off, speaking slowly and clearly. “She asked me to carve my own path. And with the Divine Pulse, I can carve whichever path I choose. That makes ME the progenitor goddess.”_

Byleth couldn’t wait. They couldn’t turn away. They couldn’t let Rhea live a moment longer. They’d come too far, done too much to stop now.

They sliced through Jeralt. Through Mercedes. Through Rhea. Rhea crashed to the floor, let out one single death rattle.

Sothis was silent. Byleth was silent. They looked down at Rhea’s body, watched the blood flow from her. Watched it pool around her.

They’d gotten revenge. Mercedes, the children, they had all been avenged by Byleth. The callousness of Rhea from two lifetimes ago, the madness of Rhea from one, they had gotten their comeuppance.

_“You used me to bring your mother back, Lady Rhea. So I will follow your example. I will use Sothis’ power, and the fury of Edelgard’s Empire to create a world for my children. Where my children can live without dying for you. And I’ll build that world over the corpses of you and your followers.”_

“You used me to bring your mother back, Lady Rhea.” Echoing their words from way back then, only now with a new promise. “So I will follow your example. I will use my own power, and the tools of Those Who Slither in the Dark to protect the world my children create. Where my children can live without dying for you and your Church. The children will survive, no matter the cost.”

They turned away, walked down the path that had led them to Rhea’s cell in the first place. If they noticed Jeralt and Leonie running towards them, they chose not to notice them. Walked past them like they didn’t exist.

Byleth had finally won. The war was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth arrives at the cell Lady Rhea is being held in. Despite Sothis' pleas to spare her and not to throw away their new future, Byleth murders Rhea for the her actions in their last two lifetimes. Rhea does not remember her actions, and is not the same person who killed Mercedes twice before.
> 
> That was inspired by the ending of Spec Ops: The Line. Really good game, makes you think about what you're doing.


	26. End of the Road

The mood of the army was a mix of euphoria, disappointment and sadness as they returned to Garreg Mach. The war was over. Edelgard and Hubert had been captured and would face justice for their actions once stability had been restored to Fódlan. They’d ended the war with very few casualties, and the Empire had been absorbed into the Kingdom. Everything was well.

But Byleth had betrayed them. Killed Lady Rhea. They'd destroyed Enbarr. Preliminary reports suggested they were the one behind the destruction of Ordelia, Hrym and Remire, too. But for what? Jeralt didn’t have any answers for them. He was just as shocked by Byleth’s actions as the rest of them.

The war was over, but Byleth was still out there somewhere. Seteth called a meeting between the Kingdom’s army, a day after they returned, to address the matter of their former Professor.

“We do not have any idea where they could have gone. They are not in Abyss. They are not near Enbarr.” Seteth poured over a map alone. Jeralt had apparently resigned from the Knights of Seiros prior to today’s meeting, along with Alois. “The Knights are searching for them. I must ask that when you return to your territories that you also remain vigilant in case the Professor appears.”

“What should we do if they do appear?” Ferdinand looked troubled. They all did, really. But Ferdinand was struggling to hide how he felt. “I will have the soldiers in Aegir and Adrestia be on the lookout of course, but what should we all do?”

“Given that they possess the weapon that wrecked Remire and Enbarr, as well as the Sword of the Creator, I must advise that you do not engage directly. Eliminate them from a distance. Do not attempt to talk to them. They are a threat to the people of Fódlan now.”

“In other words, if we see Byleth, we need to kill them.” Ingrid looked weary, one step away from breaking down, like Mercedes already had earlier on. The betrayal rested heavily on her and her fellow Blue Lions. “We can’t capture them?”  
“Absolutely not. It is too dangerous to even consider capture.” Seteth frowned at the map. He owed Byleth for saving Flayn’s life, yes. But Byleth had taken many other lives. Taken Lady Rhea’s. The Church was in chaos because of their actions. Trying to bring Byleth in would result in many more casualties. Ones they couldn’t afford. “We will need to alert the other countries. Warn them that Byleth might have left Fódlan. If they did this to Fódlan, they might consider worse options for Dagda or Morfis.“

“Very well. I will send a letter to Lorenz informing him of the new orders regarding Byleth.” Ferdinand didn’t look pleased at all by Seteth’s decision, but he went along with it, nonetheless. “Adrestia’s territories will help to bring the Professor to justice. I am sure Leicester’s will too.”

“Thank you, Ferdinand. I will be counting on the support of everyone to stop Byleth from causing further damage.”

The former students filed out of the cardinals’ room, one last time. People would be setting off for home soon, going back to their territories to help them to recover from the war. Mercedes had already departed, having left just before the meeting started. Annette still had tears in her eyes when she’d arrived in the cardinals’ room. Saying goodbye to each other would be painful, even if they were going to be working together like Caspar and Hilda, or Ashe and Petra.

Felix wasn’t particularly keen on saying goodbye to Annette. After all they had been through, all they had seen? Parting ways with her felt like losing a limb. He’d even foregone snapping at Dimitri when the Boar had lamenting how blind he had been, not realising what Byleth was up to, what Byleth was turning into. None of them could have foreseen Byleth becoming a bigger monster than the Boar had been.

The Boar had been driven by bloodthirst, but it hadn’t killed unarmed civilians with a smile on its face. Dimitri was trying to atone for his selfish ways. Byleth had made fun of his dead family back in Derdriu. Dimitri and Byleth were two different people.

Dimitri? Felix wouldn’t forget that his family had died for him. That would take a long time to let go of, but he couldn’t serve as his Shield now even if he wanted to. His arm was bound in a sling, and always would be. But he’d still follow him. Dimitri was working to atone for the Boar’s actions. That was enough for Felix. He’d poke him and prod him back onto the path he needed to go on, but he’d never put his blade to his throat again. Not that he could convince Ingrid or Gustave of that. But that was fine.

Byleth? Fraldarius would never be safe for Byleth. They’d either be driven out or killed if they were too slow to flee. Felix would not permit any more monsters to fester in the Kingdom. They’d made their choice. Felix had made his. He’d take over Fraldarius, protect it from people like Byleth.

That left one last thing to do. Asking Annette to come to Fraldarius.

He found her in the courtyard, trailing after her father. Unlike five years ago, she was happy, she wasn’t being ignored. She was just being slow. Felix wondered if she was waiting for him.

A childish thought. Annette was probably more upset over Byleth than waiting for him.

“Annette.”

She stopped. Turned around. Smiled. “Hello, Felix. How’s your arm?”

He couldn’t use it anymore. It wouldn’t move for him. Fighting any more battles would be difficult, but if Dimitri was right, they wouldn’t need to. “It’s fine. Can’t move it still. Are you still thinking of opening that school in Dominic?” he asked quickly, before she could apologise.

“Y-Yeah. I wanted to help Mercie. My uncle’s already agreed to help fund it, and Yuri and Bernadetta are helping too. Why?” She looked hopeful.

“I…” Come on, Felix. Say it. Say it! “I was thinking of having one like it open in Fraldarius.” Coward.

Annette’s eyes lost the gleam for a moment, but it just as quickly came back. “Oh? I see. Then you wouldn’t mind if I came to visit you?” Why did it feel like she was seeing right through him? “To make sure it’s running like the ones me and Mercie are setting up, I mean.”  
  
“Yeah, that would be helpful. You probably know what you’re doing.”

“Then I will. I need to go home to Dominic first. I promised my father that I’d bring him home to see Mother with me. That we’d spend time as a family together. And I want to make sure everything is alright there, get the school set up. Then… I’ll come to Fraldarius and see how your school is doing.”

“Alright. I will see you then.” Felix held out a hand. To shake on it, to make a deal or a promise for it. “Once the school is set up, I will let you know.”  
  
Annette took hold of his hand, shook on their promise. Neither really wanted to let go. Neither wanted to part.

Felix wasn’t even sure of what happened next. Either he’d pulled her close or she’d pulled him close, but suddenly Annette was _hugging_ him, he wasn’t really a hugger, and his dead arm was in the way so it couldn’t have been comfortable but she was still hugging him-

He awkwardly wrapped his arm around her. Held her for a moment. He didn’t know what he was doing, Annette probably was just hugging him like she did Mercedes. But it felt… nice.

“I’ll write to you. Keep in touch, Felix. Please.”  
“I will. Take care of yourself, Annette.”

Maybe there were tears in her eyes as she walked away. He was shocked that there were tears in his eyes as she left. He hadn’t cried since Rodrigue’s service. Before that, not since Glenn’s funeral. Crying over saying goodbye to Annette? It was like he was thirteen again. It hurt, hurt worse than any battle wound he’d suffered over during the war, but he hadn’t cried when he’d been injured.

But he watched her go all the same, until the carriage containing her and her father was not even a speck on the horizon. Only then did he turn away, return to the Monastery.

He needed to go back to Fraldarius. Have his father’s actual funeral happen. Get the territory back up to strength.

He’d get the school ready. He’d get it running, ready for Annette’s visit.

Then, he’d ask her to stay with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for the main story of Synkroniseret Kamp. The next chapter will cover the various endings, and the chapter after that will be an epilogue.


	27. Their Own Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a song I listened to while writing this chapter. Felt it fitted with Byleth's position and their students' view on them after the war.

With the war concluded, and the territories of Leicester and Adrestia absorbed into the Kingdom of Faerghus, the continent of Fódlan finally saw peace for the first time in five years. Enbarr was in ruins, but the optimism of one Ferdinand von Aegir was picked up by the surrounding territories. The plans were drawn up, the goal was set: By the turn of the century, Enbarr would be rebuilt.

The friendship built between Lorenz and Ferdinand led to relations between the former Leicester nobles and Adrestian nobles recovering and being strengthened. They followed the example set by Sylvain, encouraged their fellow nobles to adopt a new way of life, one where Relics and Crests were not what mattered anymore. Rather, it was their achievements amongst their people, the talent that a person had and how well they aided the poor and those traumatised by the war that mattered. Such a system no doubt had its flaws, as unscrupulous nobles sought to create problems to solve to heighten their status, but Ferdinand and Lorenz would always strive to call out those nobles for their actions, ensure they were justly punished. While Sylvain’s talent with oration saw relations with the Sreng strengthened and his compassion saw him go down in history as a brilliant Margrave who helped the Kingdom to recover, historians were able to trace the origin point of cheating husbands being called “Sons of Gautier” back to Sylvain, much to his descendants’ embarrassment.

Dimitri ascended to the throne to become King of Fódlan and took his beloved Marianne to be his wife and queen. Together, they ruled justly and fairly, with the tutelage of Margrave Edmund granting them the knowledge and wisdom to usher Fódlan into a new, golden age, helping their people to recover from the horrors of the War of Unification. While both were haunted by their parts in the war, particularly by their failure to see what Byleth was becoming, they sought to turn their experiences into lessons for future generations. Dimitri became the first King in Faerghus history to pass away not from battle, or war, but of natural causes following a short illness. Marianne lived on for another three years after he went, passing on the lessons she was taught by her adoptive father to their son, before she joined her beloved husband. The final entry in her journal, written with shaking hands, expressed her happiness at the life she and her husband got to live after the war, noting that she wouldn’t trade it for anything. The tale of their lives would become a legend, on par with stories of Loog.

Edelgard and Hubert stood trial for their parts in inciting the War of Unification. They were overwhelmingly found guilty of their crimes, but in a surprising move, the King requested that Edelgard and Hubert live out the rest of their lives in a cell beneath the castle, rather than be executed for their crimes. In return, Edelgard and Hubert had Hubert’s spies provide the King with the true culprits behind the Tragedy at Duscur, aiding him in clearing the name of Duscur and bringing those truly behind the Tragedy to justice. It was said that King Dimitri visited them often, discussing simple events such as the weather and the state of the court, or attempting to remind Edelgard of their childhood. The rapport that was built between the King and the former Emperor was a strange one, but the people acknowledged it as their King attempting to bridge relations with the former territories of the Empire. Regardless of why he did it, it meant that Edelgard and Hubert never made an attempt to escape, even aided in quelling a rebellion in Enbarr when Imperial remnants attempted to overthrow Ferdinand von Aegir by voicing her support for the Kingdom, acknowledging it as an ideal successor to take over her vision of the world. Whether this was fabricated by Faerghus or real, it was noted that Edelgard was happy to learn that the nobles of Fódlan no longer cared for Crests or Relics, that the Church of Seiros no longer held power over Fódlan.

The Church of Seiros continued to try and aid the Kingdom of Fareghus. Now headed by Seteth, they adopted a laxer approach to dissidents and heretics than Rhea had wielded. Despite Seteth’s best efforts, more and more people were turned against the Church as the Wandering Flame indiscriminately assaulted cities and villages in the name of the Goddess. Seteth was forced to step down as Archbishop after an attack on Fhirdiad left many protesting civilians dead, and many more injured. He and Flayn secluded themselves within the Monastery, instead turning their attention to writing stories for children and learning more about the next generation, respectively. The Church would scale back their work for many years afterwards, becoming a shadow of its former self, while the Knights of Seiros were never able to take down Byleth. Ultimately, they would fall apart after Catherine was killed in battle with the Wandering Flame.

In their place, Ingrid, Dedue and Raphael created the Shields of the King, having inherited the title from Rodrigue, with Felix’s permission. They were an order of knights dedicated to protecting Fódlan and the King. Fiercely protective of the territories but more merciful than the Knights of Seiros, they became well respected throughout Fódlan and beyond. While they never had any better luck with hunting down Byleth than the Knights did, it was noted that the Wandering Flame never killed any of the Shields sent after them. Historians dispute if this was out of respect to Ingrid, the King, or if the Wandering Flame had lost their edge. Regardless of the reason, a lesser known result of their work was that it led to the people of Faerghus and Duscur forgiving each other, as Dedue and Ingrid’s friendship showed that Fareghus and Duscur could co-exist happily. Raphael would go down in history as the Beast of the King, and portrayals of him, Ingrid and Dedue saving a village full of people from Byleth still survive to this day, having been drawn by Raphael’s sister, Maya.

Leonie would depart Fódlan a few years after the war ended, continuing to seek out work even with her debt to Sauin Village paid off. Whether it was out of pride for her work, or disgust because of the debt being mostly paid off by Byleth, historians are not sure of her reason for leaving. She wouldn’t be heard from again until decades later, when Fódlan’s Locket was torn down as a symbol of peace between Fódlan and Almyra. Representing Fódlan in that event was Dimitri and Marianne, while Caspar and Hilda served as representatives of House Goneril. Standing alongside Claude to represent Almyra was Leonie, clad in Almyran garb, having sought to find work in Almyra and gotten hired as Claude’s bodyguard. Historians dispute over whether Claude and Leonie ever married, but it was noted that Leonie continued to stay beside Claude long after her contract with him expired. Her exploits as his bodyguard included parrying an assassin’s blade from her King’s throat, which found their way into tales about King Khalid. Visiting dignitaries were warned never to leave any alcohol unattended where she could see it.

Linhardt and Hapi would travel to Hapi’s home village to seek out a cure for her curse. Using the notes left by Timotheus as well as what he had uncovered in Abyss, Linhardt swiftly unravelled the mystery of her Crest. The two lived a life of leisure for a decade or so, before re-joining Lysithea and Cyril in pursuing Hanneman’s dream of creating tools that could be used without a Crest. They never stated the reason why, but historians believe this was as a final defiant act against the old Crest system and the people that had ruined Hapi and Lysithea’s lives.

Ashe and Petra would return to Brigid, with Petra inheriting the throne from her grandfather. With Petra’s permission, Ashe created an order of knights dedicated to defending Brigid, using the Synkroniseret Kamp techniques they had been taught. They were named the Order of the Blue Sun, owing to the pair’s mutual love of swimming. Out of respect to Fódlan, who’d had struck Byleth’s name as anything other than a monster from their history books, Ashe would credit both Morfis and his and Petra’s mentors with coming up with the technique. Felix and Annette became honoured in Brigidian history for teaching their Queen the fabled Synkroniseret Kamp techniques. Although the scars from war and the Valley of Torment kept Ashe from ever picking up a weapon again, he served as an excellent commander for the Blue Sun, teaching them the guerrilla tactics he and Petra had relied on during their days in Ailell. The Blue Sun used these tactics, as well as the Synkroniseret Kamp to great effect in showcasing their power in a test against Ingrid’s Shields of the King. Petra would use this display to renegotiate diplomatic ties between Fódlan and a now independent Brigid to stand on more equal terms.

Her confidence bolstered by her time in Abyss, Bernadetta returned to Varley to take over the territory from her now dead father. Although she withdrew from all political discourse and focussed primarily on her territory’s management, she didn’t forget her promises to Annette, Mercedes and Yuri. She would open schools and poorhouses to help those less well off in her territory, establishing programs to allow students to travel between Dominic and Varley as exchange students, as well as welcoming Yuri and Dorothea’s touring opera company with open arms. The bi-monthly visits became known as “the Opera for the Bear” owing to how Bernadetta would end her hibernation periods to personally see each show Yuri and Dorothea put on. When Yuri and Dorothea finally retired from their opera company after many decades of putting on shows all around Fódlan, Almyra and Brigid, Bernadetta practically jumped to invite her and Yuri to stay in Varley. While Yuri refused out of loyalty to Abyss, Dorothea agreed. It was said that Dorothea’s presence helped draw out Bernadetta more, even giving her the courage to mingle with her people occasionally. The people came to love Dorothea, as did Bernadetta herself. They remained together for the rest of their days.

For fighting alongside the Kingdom to help end the war, Constance was permitted to resurrect House Nuvelle. She accepted, but instead of the original territory it was located in she based the House in the East of Leicester, encompassing the Kupala. Alongside Balthus, she became an advocate of the mountain folk, living her life as outlandishly as she pleased. Yet if a friend like Mercedes ever needed help, Constance and Balthus would be right there to aid them in any way they could.

Mercedes focussed her energy on running her orphanage/school with her mother and stepfather, choosing to push Byleth out of her mind completely. While she was never happier than when she was surrounded by the children at the orphanage, there were many times, late at night, that one of the children would catch Mercedes weeping quietly over a dirty old ring. Emile would eventually be released from the cell he’d been locked up in, later reuniting with Mercedes and his mother. He did his best to aid them in running the school, eventually seeking help with keeping the Death Knight under control. Mercedes and her mother supported Emile through this endeavour, but it was only with the love of her family around her than Mercedes finally let go of Byleth. She sent their ring back to Jeralt.

Jeralt remained at the Monastery. No longer serving as a Knight of Seiros, and unwilling to leave Sitri for the second time, he took on a job as a professor to the students along with Alois. The weight of Byleth’s actions would rest heavily on him for the rest of his life, but in return he put his all into training the students, making sure they were ready for the world that awaited them. Dimitri had brought peace to Fódlan, but there would always be something that wanted to fight. Jeralt ensured they were ready for that eventuality. When Seteth and Flayn returned to the Monastery after the Church’s collapse, the four would pool their experience and knowledge to devise programs to educate the students on both the past and the future of Fódlan. The tension between Seteth and Jeralt over Byleth’s actions never dissipated, even decades later when the Wandering Flame had become nothing but a myth.

Ignatz set out after the war ended, traveling across Fódlan to paint majestic pictures of the landscapes he found. Despite the world opening up through alliances forged with Almyra and Brigid, Ignatz was reluctant to leave Fódlan on his own. It took a chance encounter with Shamir for him to work up the courage to leave, only then because Shamir agreed to be his bodyguard. The two would travel west, north, south and east, and the name of Ignatz Victor would go down in history as one of the most famous artists of the Unification Era.

As for Felix and Annette…


	28. Their Future

Garreg Mach stood imposingly tall as the carriage they were sat in rode up towards the monastery. Felix watched his daughter’s expression change, from one of boredom, to awe, as the rebuilt structures came into view. When he’d first arrived, he’d been too angry, too frustrated with his father to appreciate the view. The memories he had of that place, with Sylvain, Ingrid, Dimitri and Annette…

He had a lot of memories here. Good and bad. He hadn’t passed on his stories to Rasie. Felix had enrolled at Garreg Mach to get stronger, strong enough to be able to defeat anyone. Annette’s stories had amazed her instead, even the ones of him being a villain.

The carriage rumbled to a stop, and the driver hopped down and opened the door for him. Felix clambered out of the carriage quickly and walked towards the back to retrieve Rasie’s case first. One of their usual competitions between them.

“Too slow, Dad.” Rasie appeared out of nowhere with her case held high, her mother’s eyes glimmering in the sunlight. “You’re getting lazy.”  
“I let you win. You have to be confident going into Garreg Mach. It only takes the best.”  
“I know that. Mom went there. Everyone said she was the best mage they had in their year.”  
“Did they?” Annette suddenly appeared behind Rasie, making her daughter jump. “I never heard anything.”  
It took her a moment to regain her composure. She’d inherited his attitude, but not Glenn’s stoic manner. “That’s what Aunt Mercie told me. You were the best, and Dad was one of the best swordsmen they had. A match made in heaven, she said.”

Even after all this time, the fact that their friends had known how they felt about each other before they did still made them feel awkward. Felix looked away with a grumble while Annette blushed slightly.

“You should get going,” Felix warned. “Being late on your first day will make people think you’re more like Sylvain than me.”

That got Rasie to panic a bit. She quickly said her goodbyes and rushed off into the Monastery, almost tripping over her case as she went.

“She’ll be fine, Felix.” Annette smiled one of her sunlight like smiles at him as they waved their daughter off. “Captain Jeralt will be there to help her settle in.”  
  
“I know. I just hope she doesn’t feel too pressured. She’s her, not us.”  
“If she does, I believe she can handle it.”

Felix looked at Annette. His partner. His lover. His wife. When she said something now, he tended to believe it.

“Alright. I just hope none of the boys get any ideas when the ball comes around.”

Annette giggled at that. “Remember that kid back when she was at Rodrigue? She’ll be fine.”  
“I guess.”

The couple climbed back into their carriage, the silence filling it chased off by the sounds of the driver urging the horses onwards.

“That song I was working on is almost finished.”  
“O-Oh?” Annette’s songs were the greatest thing in Fódlan, in Felix’s humble opinion. “How much is left?”  
  
“A couple of verses. I wanted to speak to Manuela when we next visit Dominic. Ask her for help with finishing it off.” She rolled her eyes at Felix’s best puppy dog eyes impression. “Yes, you’ll get to hear it when it’s done. I can’t have my biggest fan missing out, can I?” she teased.   
“They would be very upset if they did.”

“Then prepare yourself, Felix. My greatest masterpiece yet will soon be complete!”

Felix smiled. Annette always seemed to bring out a smile, even all these years later. “I’ll look forward to it.”

…

Felix took the title of Duke of Fraldarius from his late father when he returned to Fraldarius. Though his actions in the war made his people wary of him, he won them over with his unwavering work ethic and drive to help the people in his territory. Despite relinquishing the mantle of being the Shield of the King to Ingrid, he still served as an advisor to King Dimitri, working with Queen Marianne to aid him through his bad days.

Annette returned to Dominic for a year, spending time getting her school up and running as well as making up for lost time with her mother and father. Reconnecting with Bernadetta, Manuela and Mercedes, she helped establish schools not just in Dominic, but in other territories and even in Brigid. Eventually, she made her way to Fraldarius, to reunite with Felix and check in on Rodrigue’s School of Education, the school Felix had opened.

Satisfied with how it was doing, she chose to stay with Felix after a sudden proposal. With the blessing of her family, she married Felix, but travelled between Fraldarius and Dominic to spend time with her family, her students, who were under the guidance of Manuela after she departed for Fraldarius, and her husband. Between Felix and Annette, the territories of Fraldarius and Dominic returned to their former glory and grew beyond it. At Ingrid’s request, Felix and Annette turned to helping the territory of Galatea recover and return to its former glory as well. Felix supported Annette with helping to run the schools around the world, and the five of them would become known as the Heralds of Education, owing to their efforts to provide schooling for children and adults, regardless of their wealth and social status.

Years later, Annette, with the full support of her friends, family and husband, threw herself into her song writing, producing melody after melody that was loved by all who heard it. The passion behind each song she made resonated with her audience, the accessibility of them not being opera based helped with their popularity. With only a short hiatus lasting three years due to the birth of her daughter, it’s thought that the number of songs produced by Annette counted into the hundreds. Though the meanings behind each song was initially lost to time, historians were recently able to uncover the original meanings through the recovery of Felix and Annette’s diaries. Amongst the songs, the comments on Felix being a villain and some vague, amateurish poetry that compared Annette to the sun and stars were entries where the two expressed their love for one another, talked about how happy they were together.

Therefore, historians can safely conclude that Felix Hugo Fraldarius and Annette Fantine Dominic, two of the Heralds of Education and the innovators behind the Fódlan version of the Synkroniseret Kamp, did indeed love each other very dearly. That despite everything they went through in the War of Unification, they came out of it stronger, despite how Felix was crippled at the end of it. That Felix and Annette were devoted to each other until the end of their days.

While Byleth’s horrific actions no doubt played a major role in their early lives, their later lives were free of the Wandering Flame’s influence. As for Byleth themselves, there was no evidence of them appearing after the turn of the century. Whether they died, were satisfied with how their children were doing and ended their crusade or left Fódlan entirely is lost to history. Historians still debate the ultimate fate of the Wandering Flame, but what is known is that the Sword of the Creator still hangs in the Monastery entrance hall to this day, a chilling reminder to all of the danger posed by blindly following someone because of their faith in them. The crater that once was Remire still remains in front of the Oghma Mountains. A memorial to the citizens of the village was placed in front of it, reminding visitors of the damage Byleth did even centuries later.

Their students grew past their actions. Learned to not let Byleth weigh on them. But Byleth’s shadow still hangs over the War of Unification, as the people in that era never truly managed to separate the destruction of Remire and Enbarr from Dimitri and his Kingdom. The former members of the Empire and the Alliance never forgot that it was because of the Kingdom that Byleth got to torture and kill innocent sons and daughters. They forgave the Kingdom, but they did not forget.

After all, Byleth had been a part of the Kingdom’s army when it had happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Euphrasie Dominic-Fraldarius. Only daughter of Annette and Felix. Bears no Crest, has her father's competitive streak with her mother's singing voice. Likes cooking, sparring, dancing, hates standing around doing nothing and hunting. Would rather grow fruit and vegetables than eat meat. Is allergic to squirrels.
> 
> Take the last line as you will, it is merely one view of Byleth's actions during the war, brought up hundreds of years later. Maybe someone thinks differently, maybe someone else agrees. Your interpretation might be different to mine.
> 
> But that was Synkroniseret Kamp.
> 
> Hopefully people enjoyed it, maybe the concepts and ideas I used in the story might inspire people to write their own stories. Thank you all for reading the story!


End file.
